


broken pieces still belong

by faerialchemist



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e12 The Western Air Temple, Episode: s03e16 The Southern Raiders, F/M, Forgiveness, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Katara (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Katara (Avatar)-centric, Panic Attacks, not a ship fic! the kataang is canon-compliant and you can read it as platonic if you want tbh, the author loves katara so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28266867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerialchemist/pseuds/faerialchemist
Summary: “What if…” Katara’s voice was barely above a whisper, and she forcibly swallowed the lump in her throat. Her mother’s face floated before her, ash falling from the corners of her eyes. “What if I don’t…” Aang’s lifeless body flashed in her mind, lightning dancing across his spine. “What if I can’t forgive him?”Forgiveness isn't easy. (And really, who ever said it was?) This fic follows Katara's emotional journey from the events of "The Western Air Temple" to those of "The Southern Raiders," as she experiences firsthand both the challenges and rewards of forgiving others (and perhaps even learns to forgive herself along the way).
Relationships: Aang & Katara (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Hakoda & Katara (Avatar), Katara & Kya (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Suki (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar) - mentioned, Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Katara
Comments: 62
Kudos: 128





	broken pieces still belong

**Author's Note:**

> TW: description of a panic attack; extensive contemplation of grief and guilt; trauma-induced hallucinations/images; discussion of death/murder
> 
> This fic has been a long time coming. By that I mean I have been working on it for several months, and I am incredibly excited to finally share it!!
> 
> I had the idea for this fic after seeing a frustrating amount of Katara slander on Tumblr. There was one comment I kept seeing over and over: "Katara’s anger/hatred towards Zuko after he joined the Gaang was unjustified." Where do I even begin to express how wrong that statement is? I’ll let the fic do most of the talking, but I want to emphasize this: it was never just about her anger. Anyone with even an inkling of understanding towards Katara recognizes the many burdens she forces herself to carry, one of them being how closely she holds guilt to her chest. Writing her distrust of Zuko off as “just anger” is a discredit to her character. She is so much more complex and nuanced than that, and I sincerely hope this fic pays tribute to the depths of emotion she felt on her journey to forgive both Zuko and herself from the events of “The Western Air Temple” to “The Southern Raiders.” Thank you for giving my story a chance!

~*~

“Hello… Zuko here.”

Katara’s blood turned to ice when she saw the firebender standing before them, and her hand instinctively dropped to her waterskin. What was _he_ doing here? Trying to retrieve Aang for his sister? For the Fire Lord? Trying to trick them - to trick _her_ \- once again?

“Hey - I, uh, heard you guys flying around down there, so I just thought I’d… wait for you here.”

Katara’s grip tightened on the container of water, though her eyes then widened in shock as Appa… licked Zuko. _Licked_ him. What kind of game was he playing?

She didn’t miss the way Aang lowered his staff in surprise at Appa’s action, either. So Katara focused her laser glare back on Zuko. If Aang was letting his guard down, then she’d up hers. She wouldn’t fall into whatever trap the firebender was setting. Not when Aang’s life could depend on it.

Not again.

“I know you must be surprised to see me.”

“Not really,” Sokka retorted. “Since you’ve followed us all over the world.”

Because he’s obsessed with capturing - _killing_ \- Aang, Katara wanted to add, but she held her tongue. Barely.

Zuko had the decency to look guilty. “Right…” He faltered before he continued. “Well, anyway… What I wanted to tell you is that I’ve changed” - yeah, right - “and I, uh, I’m good now” - as _if_ \- “and, well, I think I should join your group” - like hell they’d let him! - “oh! And I can teach firebending. To you.”

Katara stiffened as he awkwardly gestured to Aang. A trick. It had to be a trick. So he could - So he could get close to Aang and - and take his life again when none of them were watching. But this time Katara _was_ watching, she _was_ alert, and she wouldn’t make the mistake of looking away again. She was ready for it. Ready for his inevitable betrayal.

“You want to _what_ now?” Toph demanded, speaking on behalf of their group.

Zuko opened his mouth to speak, but Katara made sure she beat him to it. “You can’t possibly think any of us would trust you, can you?” she snapped. “I mean, how stupid do you think we are?” _She_ had been stupid enough to pity him once. Stupid enough to empathize with him, to believe he was worthy of her kindness. Her mercy. And then… he’d taken advantage of it. Manipulated her just like he’d done with her mother’s necklace before.

She wasn’t going to be fooled again.

“Yeah, all you’ve ever done is hunt us down and try to capture Aang!” Sokka added, glaring at him.

“I’ve done some good things!” Zuko protested, desperation edging at his voice. “I mean, I could have stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but I set him free. That’s something!” Appa licked him again, and he grimaced.

“Appa _does_ seem to like him,” Toph pointed out, and Katara had to bite back a scoff. She loved Appa, but a lick or two from the sky bison was nowhere near proof of Zuko’s honesty. It would take more than that to convince her.

“He probably just covered himself in - in honey or something so that Appa would lick him!” Sokka countered. Ridiculous as her brother’s explanation was, Katara was more inclined to believe it than whatever excuses, lies, fairy tales Zuko was trying to feed them. “I’m not buying it.”

“I can understand why you wouldn’t trust me,” Zuko began, “and I know I’ve made some mistakes in the past -”

“Like when you attacked our village?” Sokka demanded.

“Or when you stole my mother’s necklace and used it to track us down and capture us?” Katara snapped, somehow managing to stop herself from slamming the prince to the ground with a water whip. All he - All the Fire Nation had _ever_ done was hurt people. Her. Sokka. Aang.

Her mother.

“Look, I admit I’ve done some awful things,” Zuko said, running a hand through his hair. “I was wrong to try to capture you, and I’m sorry that I attacked the Water Tribe. And I never should have sent that Fire Nation assassin after you.”

Time slowed to a crawl. Katara’s eyes widened, her body stiffening before she snapped the cap off her flask, the water swirling around in harsh currents inside. Everything. He was responsible for _everything_.

“I’m going to try to stop -”

“Wait, _you_ sent Combustion Man after us?!” Sokka exclaimed. His gaze narrowed and he pulled his boomerang off his back.

Zuko grimaced. “Well, that’s not his name, but -”

“Oh, sorry,” Sokka drawled, glaring at him. “I didn’t mean to insult your _friend_.”

“He’s not my friend!” Zuko shouted, and Katara instinctively braced herself for a tongue of fire to follow, though one never came.

“That guy locked me and Katara in jail and tried to blow us all up!” Toph said accusingly.

Zuko looked like he wanted to argue further, at least based on how his hands seemed incapable of any action besides balling into fists, but the firebender instead took a deep breath before he turned to face Aang. “Why aren’t you saying anything? You once said you thought we could be friends.”

Katara’s jaw tightened. What a liar. When could Aang have told him that?

“You know I have good in me.”

Katara glanced at Aang, and the hesitation in his eyes made bile rise in her throat. Zuko… He was telling the truth. Or at least some twisted version of it. Aang… _did_ think he had good in him. Katara could read her friend’s expression, plain as day.

But she knew better.

Katara returned her gaze to Zuko, glaring at him with the heat of a thousand suns - Tui and La, what an awful, nauseating comparison. There was no good in Zuko. There never had been. He’d proved that himself beneath Ba Sing Se.

The silence that followed lasted another hundred years. She noticed Sokka shake his head out of the corner of her eye. Then Aang spoke. “There’s no way we can trust you after everything you’ve done. We’ll never let you join us.”

Katara would have smiled had she not been so focused on ensuring Zuko’s exit. “You need to get out of here.” She curled her fingers, water creeping to the edge of its container. “ _Now_.”

“I’m trying to explain that I’m not that person anymore!” Zuko protested, sounding precisely like the rotten, irredeemable Fire Nation royalty Katara knew for a fact he was.

“Either you leave,” Sokka warned, “or we attack.”

Fire flashed in Zuko’s eyes before his shoulders fell. “If you won’t accept me as a friend, then…” He hesitated. “Maybe you’ll take me as a prisoner.”

Katara saw red as he sank to his knees, bending his head and raising his wrists in surrender. Take him as a _prisoner_?! What, the way he’d wanted to - the way he _had_ treated them the second Aang had been freed from the iceberg? As lesser? Weaker?

No. They were better than that. They were better than _him_.

“No, we won’t!” Katara threw out her right arm, sending a blast of water towards him. She wished she’d had the confidence to make it sharper. More… deadly. “Get out of here, and don’t come back! And if we ever see you again” - she faltered, the sheer _hatred_ fueling her violent thoughts terrifying her - “well, we’d better not see you again!”

Zuko hesitated, but when she drew a churning sphere of water from her flask, he stood and slowly backed away.

Katara waited until he had disappeared from her line of sight before she spoke, returning the water to its container. “Why would he try to fool us like that?!”

“Obviously he wants to lead us into some kind of trap,” Sokka said, slipping his boomerang back into its sheath.

Katara laughed. It was… harsh. Bitter. It didn’t sound like her, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to care. “This is just like when we were in prison together at Ba Sing Se. He starts talking about his mother and making it seem like - like he’s an actual human _being_ with feelings.” She’d pitied him. Maybe - Maybe even _connected_ with him! But he’d just been using her. Using her to get to Aang. He’d turned around and stabbed her in the back, he’d - he’d come _so close_ to extinguishing the last light of hope left in the world.

And… And she’d _let_ him. It was her fault Aang had nearly -

It was all because she had considered for a split second too long that maybe, just maybe, the war had hurt Zuko, too.

“He wants you to trust and feel sorry for him so you let your guard down,” Sokka continued, “then he strikes.”

Katara flinched, her heart pinching inside her chest. “The thing is… it _worked_. I did feel sorry for him.” She shook her head, loathing the uncertainty that beat against her temples. “I felt like he was really confused and hurt” - and maybe he _had_ been - “but obviously, when the time came, he made his choice” - he’d chosen to ignore, no, to _reject_ her empathy - “and we paid the price.”

Aang had died.

If she had used the spirit water on Zuko’s scar…

“We can’t trust him,” she finished, her fists clenching at her sides.

“I… kind of have a confession to make,” Aang said quietly. “Remember when you were sick and I got captured by Zhao?”

Katara paused. “Y-”

“And you made us suck on frozen frogs?” Sokka complained. “How could I forget? I had a wart on the flap that hangs down from the back of my throat for a month!”

Katara’s left eye twitched. Really? He’d bring _that_ up now? While they were still trying to get a grasp on why Zuko, of all people, had shown up at their camp feigning innocence?! Spirits, her brother needed to learn to read the room. “Sokka,” she said through gritted teeth, “I looked at it, and I _told_ you, there was nothing there!”

“I could feel it!” Sokka whined. “It’s my throat-al flap!”

“Anyway,” Aang interrupted. Embarrassment made Katara’s cheeks flush a deep red. “When Zhao had me chained up… it was Zuko who came in and got me out.” Aang’s grip tightened on his glider. “He risked his life to save me.”

“No way!” Katara exclaimed, perfectly aware of the sarcasm dripping from her voice. Hopefully normal color had returned to her face. “I’m sure he only did it so he could capture you himself!” Aang’s infinite kindness and desire to see the best in everyone usually inspired her, but now it just felt like naivete.

“Yeah, face it, Aang,” Sokka agreed. “You’re nothing but a big prize to him.”

Aang hesitated, then he sighed, shoulders slumping. “You’re probably right.”

“And what was all that crazy stuff about setting Appa free?” Katara scoffed. “What a liar!”

“Actually, he wasn’t lying.”

Katara blinked. She’d almost forgotten Toph was there. The earthbender was normally much more… vocal about her thoughts and opinions. Silence was a rarity.

“Oh, hooray!” Sokka exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “In a lifetime of evil, at least he didn’t add animal cruelty to the list.”

“I’m just _saying_ that considering his messed up family and how he was raised, he could have turned out a lot worse,” Toph snapped, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

Worse? _Worse_? Katara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Zuko had already attacked her home. He’d already chased her and Sokka and Aang across the entire world for _months_. He’d already stolen her mother’s necklace. He’d already tried to capture Aang at the North Pole and then - and then he’d _stood_ there silently while _his_ sister had killed Aang beneath Ba Sing Se.

He’d let Aang die.

“You’re right, Toph!” Katara said, throwing her hands in the air. “Let’s go find him and give him a medal. The ‘not as much of a jerk as you could have been’ award!”

“All I know is that while he was talking to us, he was sincere.” The tightness of Toph’s jaw betrayed her frustration. “Maybe you’re all just letting your hurt feelings keep you from thinking clearly.”

Hurt feelings?! The crumbling outer walls of the Southern Water Tribe were just ‘hurt feelings.’ The jagged scar interrupting the arrow on Aang’s back was just a ‘hurt feeling.’ Her mother’s _funeral_ was just a - “Easy for you to say!” Katara snapped. “You weren’t there when he had us attacked by pirates!”

“Or when he burned down Kyoshi Island!” Sokka added.

“Or when he tried to capture me at the Fire Temple!” Aang finished, albeit the least convincing of them all.

“Why would you even _try_ to defend him?” Katara concluded.

Toph huffed, her shoulders stiffening. “Because, Katara, you’re all ignoring one crucial fact.” She jammed her index finger into Aang’s chest. “Aang needs a firebending teacher! We can’t think of a single person in the _world_ to do the job! Now one shows up on a silver platter, and you won’t even _think_ about it?!” She stomped in frustration, and Katara winced as the foundations of the temple shook around them.

Aang sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m not having Zuko as my teacher.”

Sokka nodded. “You’re darn right you’re not, buddy.”

Katara shrugged casually. “Well, I guess that settles that.”

“Ugh!” Toph glared at them. “I’m beginning to wonder who’s really the blind one here!”

She started to leave, heading into the depths of the air temple. Something bubbled up in Katara’s chest - something hot, something _hateful_ , something that - something that demanded immediate release.

“No,” she snapped, slamming her own foot into the ground. She knew Toph could feel it. “You don’t get to walk away from this. You’re the only one here who hasn’t been touched by this war! You don’t get to walk away!”

“Are you kidding me, Sugar Queen?!” Toph retorted, spinning on her heel to glare at Katara. “We’re _all_ going through this war right now. Zuko included, whether you like it or not!”

“Zuko’s from the _Fire Nation_!” Katara ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “He has no idea what it’s like to be _losing_ this war. And you, Miss Beifong” - she pointed angrily at Toph, not caring that the girl couldn’t see it - “don’t know _anything_. Your parents kept you safe and protected from this war for your entire _life_.”

“Shut up! My parents weren’t -”

Katara didn’t let her finish. “Did you know that there’s almost nothing left of the Southern Water Tribe? Of my home? Do you want to know _why_ that’s the case?” Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “Because the Fire Nation attacked us every day for _years_! They killed my mother and took my father away!” She inhaled a sharp breath. “You don’t know anything about this war. So maybe stop acting like you do.”

Toph bristled. “Don’t you _dare_ tell me what I know and don’t know, Katara! My parents weren’t _protecting_ me. You saw what they were like! They thought I was weak and pathetic and they never” - she shook her head, voice faltering - “they never loved the _real_ me.” She cleared her throat, angrily rubbing her eyes with her right arm. “I was _trapped_ in that stupid house! My parents didn’t care -”

“At least you _had_ a house! At least you _had_ parents! My father is gone and my mother is dead and I’m the last -” Katara choked on her words, tears welling in her eyes. “You don’t get to say whether we trust Zuko, Toph. You don’t get to say _anything_ about the Fire Nation because you’ve lost _nothing_ to them.”

She took a deep breath, wiping her eyes with her left wrist. “Aang, you made the right decision.” Katara nodded at her friend, ignoring the pain that shot through her chest when she saw the - not pity, no, but something beyond empathy in his eyes. A hurt that reflected her own. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the back courtyard. Waterbending.”

Katara ignored Aang as he called her name, instead letting the sound of her own footsteps fill her ears and drown out the voices in her head.

~*~

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…” Aang shook his head in awe. “Thanks, Zuko.”

Katara couldn’t believe he was saying it, either. She was still struggling with the idea that Zuko was genuine in his desire to teach Aang firebending, much less was she ready to acknowledge the concept of being _indebted_ to him for his assistance. The prospect made her nauseous.

“Listen, I know I didn’t explain myself very well yesterday,” Zuko began. “I’ve been through a lot in the last few years -”

Katara bit back a scoff. She didn’t think he was lying, no, but she - she couldn’t _believe_ his audacity. What right did he have to stand in front of them and claim he’d suffered? After everything the Fire Nation - after everything _he_ had put them through? And she knew, Katara _knew_ she was being unfair, but logic did nothing to abate the white-hot burning in her chest or the painful lump in her throat. Zuko’s lips continued to move, yet Katara could hear nothing.

She ached. All through her body. Every nerve ending was on fire, crackling blue electricity destroying her from the inside out.

“I need to be more careful, and control my bending, so I don’t hurt people unintentionally.”

Katara bit her tongue so hard she tasted copper. Hurting people unintentionally? What about hurting people on _purpose_? Ha. Maybe he didn’t even know the difference.

But she did. Katara had experienced both forms of hurt from Zuko, all in the span of ten minutes.

“I think you _are_ supposed to be my firebending teacher,” Aang said after a pause. His words were like a knife to Katara’s stomach. If only she could open up and bleed. “When I first tried to learn firebending, I burned Katara, and after that… I never wanted to firebend again.”

Katara flinched at the memory. Not because of her charred skin, though she still remembered the smell. It was impossible to forget. But Aang’s vow…

She wasn’t worth the world. She wasn’t worth such a sacrifice. And she knew she’d never be able to make him understand that.

“But now I know you understand how easy it is to hurt people you love,” Aang continued. Katara’s heart skipped a beat. “I’d like you to teach me.”

He bowed, and Zuko returned the gesture, relief permeating his features. “Thank you. I’m so happy you’ve accepted me into your group.”

Aang shook his head. “Not so fast. I still have to ask my friends if it’s okay with them.” He turned to Toph, who was still sitting with her feet propped up. “Toph, you’re the one that Zuko burned. What do you think?”

The earthbender didn’t need to answer. Not really. Katara already knew what her response would be.

Toph shrugged. “Eh. Go ahead and let him join.” She punched her open palm, grinning with barely-disguised mischief. “It’ll give me plenty of time to get back at him for burning my feet.”

Aang then turned to Sokka. If she was honest… Katara wasn’t entirely sure what her brother’s response would be. But he tended to follow logic above all else, so that meant…

“Sokka?”

There was a pause. Then Sokka shrugged, sighing. “Hey. All I want is to defeat the Fire Lord. If you think this is the way to do it…” He eyed Zuko suspiciously before his gaze shifted back to Aang. “Then I’m all for it.”

She was next. Last.

“Katara?”

Her fingernails dug into her palms, and Katara glared at Zuko, hoping the expression could convey all of the distrust and loathing that sat aflame in the pit of her stomach. Then she glanced at Aang, and the unwavering faith - the _conviction_ \- in his eyes made bile rise in her throat. Disgust at… herself.

She wasn’t worthy of Aang’s support.

But at least she could still support him in return.

“I’ll go along with whatever _you_ think is right.”

Aang beamed at her, and against her will, Katara could feel the corners of her own lips tugging upwards, too. His happiness always had been contagious.

“I won’t let you down!” Zuko said eagerly. “I promise.”

Only time would tell if he followed through with those words. And until then, Katara would always have one eye on him. Better to be safe than… than to lose everything. Again.

As the group dispersed, Aang gently pulled Katara aside. Before he could speak, however, she slipped her hand into his, tugging him behind the fountain. The gurgling water would at least partially disguise their voices. Not that they _needed_ to hide their conversation, but… well, just in case.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, moving to sit on the lip of the fountain. She didn’t hesitate to pull him down next to her, keeping his hand in hers even after he was no longer standing.

Aang gave her a crooked smile. “What do you mean? When is anything ever wrong with me?”

Katara laughed, the tension in her shoulders from her icy interaction with Zuko already starting to ease. Aang just had that effect. “More often than you’d admit, I’m sure.”

He laughed, too. “I’m starting to think you know me better than I know myself.”

She shrugged, winking at him. “Oh, maybe a little.”

“But no,” he continued after a pause. “Nothing’s wrong.” Aang gently squeezed her hand. “I just wanted to thank you.” The sympathy in his eyes made her stomach churn, and suddenly her hands felt cold. “For letting Zuko join us. To teach me firebending. I know you don’t trust him, and I’d never ask you to, because he’s hurt you more than any of us.”

Katara stared at him in shock. “What? Aang, no -”

“You don’t need to disagree,” he said sincerely. “I would never judge you for your anger towards him. Just like you didn’t judge me when the sandbenders stole Appa.” He exhaled slowly. “As much as I’d love for all of us to be friends one day, I know forgiveness isn’t easy. It’s good for us to forgive, maybe even _better_ when we’re able to manage it, but…” He laughed. The sound was quieter than usual. “Yeah. Not easy.”

“What if…” Katara’s voice was barely above a whisper, and she forcibly swallowed the lump in her throat. Her mother’s face floated before her, ash falling from the corners of her eyes. “What if I don’t…” Aang’s lifeless body flashed in her mind, lightning dancing across his spine. “What if I _can’t_ forgive him?”

Black snow landed on the tip of her nose.

Aang traced a small circle on her knuckles with his thumb. Katara blinked, and the snow was gone. “I think the decision is yours to make,” he finally said. “And I think you should allow yourself time before you make it.” He smiled at her. “Even if you can’t forgive him, that just makes me even more grateful you were willing to let Zuko join us. So again, thank you.”

Katara exhaled a slow breath. It was unsteadier than she was prepared to acknowledge. Aang didn’t comment, though, instead giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. Katara found herself relaxing. Just a little bit. “I meant what I said. I’m doing it for you, Aang. Not for him. This isn’t his second” - third, fourth, fifth? - “chance. Which means if your faith in him wavers, even for a _moment_ …” She shook her head. “I want him gone.”

Katara was worried Aang would argue with her, certain that her words were not what he wanted to hear. But he didn’t challenge her. Instead, he nodded. “Okay.” He gave her a warm smile. “I trust your judgement.”

She wasn’t sure she deserved his trust.

Katara took a deep breath, ready to change the subject. She looked around them, tucking her hair behind her ear with her free hand. “Speaking of Zuko, though, did you see where he went? There’s something I want to talk to him about.”

In case her earlier glare hadn’t done the trick… She wanted to convey her feelings to him with _zero_ chance of being misunderstood.

Aang laughed, grinning at her. “You know, if Sokka were here, I bet he’d say that you’re starting to _warm_ up to Zuko already.”

Katara rolled her eyes. Men and their insistence on torturing women with terrible puns. But she didn’t bother to hide her smile - and, to be fair, she rarely succeeded in such a task around Aang. “So… Does that mean you _don’t_ know where he went?”

Aang released her hand as he stood - Katara found herself already lamenting the new emptiness of her palm - and pointed towards the interior of the temple. “I think I saw Sokka taking him that way. He might have been showing Zuko to his room.”

She nodded. “Thanks.” Katara gave him a reassuring smile and a friendly wave after she stood and began heading towards the back of the temple.

“I’ll come with you,” Aang then offered, falling into step beside her. She barely managed to disguise her grimace, and he hastily added, “Not to visit Zuko! I’ve just been meaning to talk to Sokka about…” He faltered. “Er, important stuff.” He gave her an embarrassed smile. “That’s all. I promise.”

Katara hesitated, then relaxed. This was Aang. “Okay.”

They chatted absentmindedly about waterbending as they walked, mostly Katara pointing out the forms she wanted to work with him on over the course of the week and Aang explaining which aspects he was still struggling to grasp. Despite how short their conversation ended up being, Katara found she was almost able to forget the ultimatum her lips were preparing to deliver.

Almost. But not quite.

They paused as they entered the hallway everyone’s rooms were lined off of, Sokka stepping out of one near the end.

“Okay… This is really, _really_ weird,” Sokka said in a low voice as he approached them, shaking his head in disbelief.

Aang gave Katara a final, reassuring smile before leaving with her brother, nodding along as Sokka griped about how he never thought he’d willingly sleep in a room adjacent to _Zuko_. She kind of agreed with him - really, what were their lives at this point?

Katara took a deep breath, steeling herself as she leaned against the wooden doorframe for a moment before entering the room. This was for Aang. No one else.

Right?

Zuko turned around as she entered. He wore an odd - almost hopeful - expression, as if he’d been… reminiscing. Ah. That could be explained by the picture of his… uncle, she was pretty sure, he’d just placed down on a dresser. But as soon as she levelled an icy glare at him, the color drained from his face.

“You might have everyone else buying your… transformation,” she warned, “but you and I both know you’ve struggled with doing the right thing in the past.” Zuko flinched, and Katara took a step towards him. “So let me tell you something right now. You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me _one_ reason to think you might hurt Aang…” Her fists clenched at her sides. Lightning flickered at the edge of her vision. “And you won’t have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I’ll make sure your destiny ends right then and there.” She glared at him. “ _Permanently_.”

Just as he’d nearly ended Aang’s.

Katara didn’t wait for him to respond. She was afraid of what she might do if he said something… wrong.

She slammed the door shut as she left, and when Aang sent her a concerned glance as she passed by him and Sokka, she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. They always had resembled storm clouds. Gray storm clouds and… ash.

Zuko had betrayed her once. He’d hurt her and her friends and her home too many times for Katara to turn around a second - a _third_ \- time and be buddy-buddy with him. She knew she couldn’t afford to let down her guard. The future of the world - Aang’s _life_ \- could depend on it.

~*~

Katara was pacing. Back and forth in a deadly straight line, spinning on her heel and grinding it into the stones beneath her feet with each turnaround.

They were supposed to be back already. _They should have been back already._

It was supposed to be a quick trip. Scope out the ruins for a few hours. Discover the original secret to firebending. Return - Return enlightened, or whatever. And now the sun was setting, but Aang and Zuko were nowhere to be found. Why? Why weren’t they back yet?

She had to do something. She couldn’t just sit here and wait, helpless, while Aang could be in _danger_ -

“Katara?”

She froze upon hearing her name, but she didn’t acknowledge the call. Not at first. That would mean risking the possibility of distraction, and at this point, she was willing to let her worry consume her. It was more than halfway there already. Then she exhaled a sharp, heavy sigh. “What?” she said tightly, spinning around to see the concerned face of -

Haru winced at the aggression in her tone, taking a step back before he gave her an awkward smile. Guilt pooled in the pit of Katara’s stomach. “Sorry,” he said tentatively. “I, uh - I didn’t mean to… startle you.” The delicacy of his word choice was palpable.

Katara hastily shook her head. “No, no!” she said imploringly. “You don’t need to apologize. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” She slowly blew air out her lips, her heart rate dropping down from its previous rapidity. “I’m sorry.” She offered him a hesitant smile, relieved to note he didn’t take another step away from her. “Was there something you needed?”

Haru awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Not quite?” Worry flickered across his expression, and he pursed his lips. “You’ve just… seemed a little on edge today. I wanted to let you know that if you need someone to talk to, I’m always here.” He gave her a gentle smile. “Okay?”

‘On edge’ seemed like an understatement, but to admit that aloud would only make her situation worse, she was certain. “Thank you, Haru,” she said, and she meant it. “That’s very kind of you.” She reached across her chest to massage her left shoulder. The action did little to abate the rest of her body’s stiffness. “But I’m okay. I think I just… need to work on my waterbending forms for a while.” That would help her relax, wouldn’t it? Or at least take her mind off of Aang and Zuko for… a few minutes.

“Are you sure?” Haru asked.

Katara noticed that everyone else, from Teo to the Duke, had paused in whatever they were doing to observe her conversation with Haru. Except for Toph, whom Katara had yet to reconcile with about… Well, not that she had plans to do so. The way Katara saw it, she had no reason to apologize.

Even if Toph had been right about… No. It didn’t matter. Not when Aang and Zuko were yet to - yet to -

Katara glanced aside, face paling as she accidentally met Sokka’s concerned gaze. She hastily returned her attention to Haru, hoping her brother hadn’t been able to read her expression too closely. “I’m sure,” she promised, giving him a soft smile. “But thank you. Again.”

In an attempt to preserve her remaining dignity, Katara kept her chin up while making eye contact with none of her friends as she headed through the temple towards a small, private courtyard nestled in the back. It was her haven - one that Aang had introduced to her upon their initial arrival. A quiet area where she could practice waterbending in peace.

Katara spun the cap off her waterskin, taking a deep breath before pulling the water itself out. The sound of cricket-moths chirping around her was soothing, and she found herself closing her eyes as she easily slipped into a basic bending stance.

Out, up, across. A curve, a bend, a spiral. She didn’t need her eyes to know where the water was. Her element was an extension of herself, natural as the blood flowing through her veins.

Katara grimaced. That analogy was no longer what it once was.

She shifted into a sharper, more commanding stance. The water from her flask twisted to become a taut whip, and as she snapped her wrist, the water obeyed. Katara opened her eyes as it lashed out and struck through the bark of a decaying tree. She might have felt bad for destroying it, but Aang had told her not to worry, as it had been uprooted a long time ago.

No. _No_. She wasn’t going to think about Aang right now.

Katara turned around, closing her eyes again. Her mother stood before her, a warm smile flickering on and off her face. Blood trickled over Kya’s bottom lip and down her chin, and Katara’s heart seized in her chest.

The water curled around her wrist, threading through her fingers and cooling as she sharpened the streams into slender daggers of ice. She lifted her arm to shoot them -

“Whoa, whoa! Please don’t impale me with sharp ice-things! I’m too young to die!”

Katara jumped at the interruption, water falling to the floor around her as her eyes flew open. “Sokka!” she scolded, bending the water back into her flask. “You startled me!”

Her brother threw up his hands in surrender. “Hey! How was I supposed to know you’d be, er… sleep-waterbending?”

Katara rolled her eyes. “It was an exercise in focus, not a nap.” She returned the cap to the top of her waterskin, spinning it on tightly so no liquid would spill out. “Is there something you need, or did you just come to bother me?”

Sokka smirked at her. “As your older brother, I am legally required to bother you whenever possible.” His expression grew serious. “But there was something I needed, yes.” He levelled his gaze with hers, and Katara froze beneath it. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Katara’s pulse quickened, her mind jumping back to the indisputable concern in her brother’s eyes from only a few minutes earlier. He couldn’t know what was on her mind… Could he? “About what?” she asked, realizing she’d let silence hang in the air for too long.

Sokka exhaled slowly. “About Aang,” he admitted. “And Zuko.”

Yes, was the answer. He _could_ know.

Katara stiffened. “Well, I don’t know why you think there’s anything to talk about,” was her brisk response, but when she tried to stalk past him out of the courtyard, he sidestepped directly into her path.

“Katara.” He shook his head. “You need to talk about this.” He gave her a small, sympathetic smile. “C’mon. You listen to me go on about Yue and Suki all the time. Let me return the favor for once.”

Sometimes Katara hated how much Sokka resembled their mother.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I already told Haru. I’m fine.”

Sokka shrugged. “Okay. Sure. Then I’ll go first.” Before she realized what he was doing, Sokka had grabbed her wrist and pulled her over to the empty, fractured fountain in the middle of the area, sitting her next to him on its stone edge.

“Look… I’m worried about Aang, too,” he confessed. He released her arm, staring down at his feet. “We still don’t know if we can trust Zuko, and I… I don’t like that they aren’t back yet, because they both agreed the trip was only supposed to take a few hours.”

Katara clenched the fabric of her tunic that rested on her lap. Dammit. She was starting to hate how her brother could read her mind.

“On the one hand, I know Aang is perfectly capable of defending himself,” Sokka continued, “and for the most part, I really do think Zuko wants to teach him firebending.”

Katara bit back a scoff. That was where she disagreed with him, it seemed.

“At the same time…” Sokka’s brows furrowed in concern. “Aang is my best friend. And I hate to think that something bad might happen to him when I’m not there to help.”

Katara’s breath hitched. She wasn’t sure if she managed to disguise it as a cough. “I’m… afraid, too,” she finally whispered, her voice scratchier than she wanted to admit. “Of not being there for him.”

“Okay,” Sokka said after a pause. “I understand that fear.” He tilted his head, placing a hand on her knee. “But… there’s more, isn’t there.”

A statement, not a question.

Every time Katara blinked, spots of blackened snow fluttered before her eyes, one connected to another by flickering streaks of blue lightning. “In the crystal caverns, I _was_ there,” she began, “and I still - I almost didn’t -” She clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle a sob.

Sokka wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug. “I know,” he murmured. “I know.” He squeezed her tighter. “I’m here.”

“What if I hadn’t” - Katara shook her head - “I’d never forgive myself if I’d - the spirit water -” She bit her tongue so hard she tasted copper. Blood trickled onto and down her bottom lip, but she didn’t let a single tear fall. Instead, she buried her face into Sokka’s shoulder, wishing she’d been able to run just a little bit faster.

~*~

Fishing.

A likely story. One Katara didn’t believe for a second.

And yet her friends had _all_ bought it. Or were treating the letter like they’d believed its contents, anyway. And by that she meant each of her friends were acting like nothing was wrong, when in fact _everything_ was wrong! Sokka and Zuko had gone off somewhere, _deliberately_ choosing not to disclose where - was it _possible_ for them to have been more suspicious?!

Despite the glaring red flags, everyone was finding a way to entertain themselves, as if the true location of Sokka and Zuko mattered naught to them. Haru was working with the Duke on how to fight while being less reliant on his earthbending. Aang was off gliding with Teo. The two had gotten much closer as of late, and Katara wasn’t sure how to feel about the way Teo flushed a deep crimson anytime Aang was within three feet of him. Toph, of course, was… nowhere to be seen.

Nowhere Katara knew, anyways. Or cared. They hadn’t spoken since their fight before Zuko had joined their group. Maybe they were both being stubborn. Maybe - Maybe Katara just needed to get over herself and say _sorry_ , but… she couldn’t do it. Even if Toph had been _right_ , even if Aang _had_ needed a firebending teacher and Zuko was the perfect option, Katara _couldn’t_ \- she - no.

Not when Sokka was spirits knew where with the firebender.

Aang had come back. But that was just luck, wasn’t it? It didn’t mean Zuko had redeemed himself. It didn’t mean he was worthy of her trust. And now Sokka was gone, too, and there was nothing she could do to guarantee his safe return.

Tui and La. She didn’t want to think about it.

“Katara?”

Katara froze upon hearing her name, surprised most of all by who’d uttered it. “Toph?”

The earthbender was standing just outside Katara’s room, the flatness of her expression betraying nothing about why she was there. “What, are we just gonna stare at each other and say our names over and over?” Toph grumbled.

Katara scoffed, instinct putting her on the defensive. “Well, you’re the one hovering outside my room.”

Toph glared at her. “You haven’t exactly invited me in, Sugar Queen.”

“And you haven’t told me what you’re here for, mud slug,” Katara snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Wait, are you really not going to let me in?” Toph said incredulously. “Seriously? You’re kidding me, right?”

Katara rolled her eyes, then bit back a sigh as she realized how pointless the action was. “Sorry if I have a policy of not allowing jerks into my room without explanation.”

Toph snorted. “Why are _you_ in there, then?”

Katara stiffened. “That’s it. Get out.”

“Not a chance.” Toph moved away from leaning on the doorframe, her hands balled into fists. “Not until I deliver what I came here for. Although I’m beginning to think you don’t deserve it.”

“Oh, spirits, don’t talk to me about ‘deserve,’ Toph!” Katara snapped. “And this is literally _my_ room, so you don’t get to come in until I say so.”

“Then are you gonna hear me out or what?!”

“Fine!” Katara threw her hands up in mock-surrender. “Tell me what you want so I can just ask you to leave again!”

“I wanted to _apologize_!”

Katara blinked. Her arms fell to her sides, all the energy in her body dissipating as they did so. “What?”

“I wanted to apologize,” Toph repeated, her face red.

Katara hesitated, embarrassment at her unnecessary attacks coloring her cheeks in a similar fashion. “Oh.” She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Okay. You can… You can come in. If you still want to.”

Toph nodded, and they sat side-by-side on the stone floor. Katara had been on a mat, originally, but she figured she should extend the courtesy of letting Toph ‘see’ her during their conversation, especially considering how… aggressive she had initially been when her friend had arrived. Ugh. She was just - just so on edge, what with Sokka gone and -

Yeah.

“I shouldn’t have dismissed your feelings about Zuko,” Toph finally said, tightly gripping the pale fabric making up the top layer of her tunic. “Before he joined our group. He… hurt you in ways I didn’t - _don’t_ understand. So I’m sorry for - for ignoring you then. And acting like I knew better than you did.”

Katara raised an eyebrow at her friend’s confession. “That is… really open of you, Toph.”

Toph’s cheeks turned a deeper scarlet. “I might have gone over what I was going to say with Aang,” she grumbled. “I didn’t want to mess this up.”

Katara’s gaze softened. “Aw, Toph.” She smiled at her, gently bumping her friend’s shoulder. “That’s really sweet of you.”

Toph snorted. “You’d know sweet, wouldn’t you, Sugar Queen?”

Katara rolled her eyes. Yeah, she’d walked right into that one. Then she sighed, pushing her hair behind her ear. “I… owe you an apology, too.” She massaged her left wrist. “For one, you were right. About Aang needing a firebending teacher and all. I - I _was_ letting my feelings get the best of me.”

Toph frowned. “Maybe, but it’s not like your distrust was coming from nowhere.”

Katara shrugged. “Doesn’t change the fact that I was being stubborn.” Huh. Talking with Toph was… easier than she’d once remembered. The realization made warmth fill her chest. “But also…” She grimaced. “I shouldn’t have brought up your parents in our fight. I know your relationship with them still isn’t… what you want it to be.”

Toph snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

Katara had to bite back a chuckle at Toph’s bluntness. Her friend never did hold her punches.

“But you don’t need to apologize for that,” Toph continued. There was a quietness to her voice that made Katara’s heart skip a beat. “You were right. My parents _did_ shelter me. And yeah, it was crappy, but I can’t pretend it wasn’t…” She huffed. “Okay, it _was_ miserable, but you’re right that I never had direct experiences with the Fire Nation like you and Sokka and Aang. I _was_ protected.”

Katara frowned. “Toph, that doesn’t mean your parents were right to -”

“Oh, believe me. I know,” Toph interrupted. Her grip tightened on her tunic before gradually slackening. “Still. I can’t pretend I didn’t have the luxury of - of not being exposed to parts of this war that you had… no choice but to go through.”

Her words sounded a little rehearsed, maybe, but her honesty was genuine. Katara wondered if Aang had helped her figure out exactly what she’d wanted to say.

The thought made Katara smile.

She hesitated, then laughed, tension easing from her shoulders. “So what I’m hearing is… we’re both complete idiots?”

Toph grinned. “Hey. You said it, not me.”

Silence fell. Katara took a slow breath, readying herself to ask the question that had been nagging her since Toph had joined her on the floor. “Do you… Do you really trust Zuko?”

Toph didn’t move a muscle. For a pause long enough to make Katara squirm, the room was all but dead. Then Toph spoke. “You’re worried about Sokka, aren’t you.”

It wasn’t a question, and Katara knew it. Yet she hesitated to acknowledge that reality. “What do you -”

“You acted like this when Aang was gone, too,” Toph continued. “Keeping to yourself. Getting angry over little things. Probably because you were just worrying the whole time.”

Katara blanched. Was she really so easy to read?

“And now that Sokka’s gone, you’re doing the same thing all over again.” Toph fiddled with the edge of her tunic. “I - All of us worry about you, Katara.” She flushed at her slip-up, and Katara chose not to comment, though she could feel her own face heating, too.

There was a pause. “You’re right,” Katara admitted. Her voice was close to a whisper. “I… I am worried. We don’t know where they went or when they’ll be back and I just hate -”

“Feeling powerless?” Toph finished.

Katara blinked. “Yeah,” she finally said. “I hate when there’s nothing I can do.”

“I know what you mean.” Toph laughed. The sound was quiet. A little bitter, a little tired. “I know we, er, haven’t been on speaking terms the past few days, but I was… I was scared out of mind when Twinkle Toes went off with Zuko and didn’t come back when he said they would.” She shook her head, grimacing. “Ugh. It was so embarrassing.”

Katara cracked a smile at her friend’s commentary. But she let Toph continue.

“But they did come back. And I could tell - _feel_ , actually - that… that they’d both changed. They were weirdly in tune with each other.” Toph shook her head. “And I mean _weirdly_. Like some kind of spirit or - or just _something_ really old and really powerful had… connected them.”

Katara bit her bottom lip. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t noticed the change, too. And while Aang’s newfound, complete-and-utter faith in Zuko was… mildly reassuring, she supposed, it was - it was impossible to undo months of distrust in only a few days’ time. For her, at least.

Wasn’t it?

She didn’t understand how Aang had managed the task. His ability to forgive and to find the good in anyone was as admirable as it was…

Terrifying. Because what was _good_ about the Fire Nation? How could they cleanse her mother’s blood from their palms? The blood of Aang’s people?

The blood of Aang himself?

Was she even ready to face those truths?

Toph’s voice pulled Katara out of her downward spiral, and she found herself taking in a sharp breath as the earthbender spoke. “To actually answer your question, though,” Toph continued, a crooked smile inching onto her lips, “I trust that Zuko wants to defeat the Fire Lord, yes. Regarding his personal character” - she shrugged - “I’m still trying to figure that one out. Aang likes him. If I’m honest, though…” She snickered. “Zuko is kind of a loser.”

Katara was barely able to contain her laughter at Toph’s comment. Crown Prince Zuko, firebender extraordinaire, deemed a grade-A loser by the greatest earthbender in the world. Spirits, she couldn’t _breathe_.

“I’m sure that doesn’t really make you feel better about Sokka having disappeared off the face of the Earth with him,” Toph continued dryly, “but if it’s any consolation, I do think your brother could take care of Sparky with one good thwack of his boomerang.”

Katara’s mind flashed back to their first encounter with Zuko. Toph had no idea how right she was.

“That does make me feel a little better, actually,” she said, lightly knocking Toph’s shoulder with her own. “Thanks.”

Maybe Zuko wasn’t worthy of her trust yet. And maybe he wouldn’t ever be. But Katara _did_ trust her friends. If Toph believed Zuko was trying, if Aang believed Zuko worthy of his forgiveness, and spirits, if Sokka believed Zuko competent enough for some secret mission… Then she could allow herself to breathe without ash filling her chest and suffocating her.

So why did the lines on her palms still resemble bolts of lightning?

“Don’t worry about it,” Toph grumbled, her face turning crimson. Katara knew there was no real irritation behind her words. “I was just tired of seeing you moping.”

Before Katara could retort with a devastatingly witty comment, Toph stood and cracked her knuckles.

“Anyways. I’m sick of sitting around, Sugar Queen.” She smirked at her. “What do you say we steal Aang away from his glider-boyfriend and give the Avatar his daily quota of earthbending and waterbending training?”

It was a distraction. A subtle way to take her mind off Sokka while he was out somewhere in the unknown with Zuko. Katara knew it.

And she was grateful.

“Count me in.”

~*~

Katara’s heart leapt into her throat. Out of the corner of her vision she could see Aang beaming beside her. “Dad?” she finally choked out, tears welling in her eyes.

Her dad gave her a crooked smile that was all too similar to Sokka’s. “Hi, Katara.”

Unable to hold back any longer, Katara sprinted towards him, crushing her father into what was probably the tightest hug she’d ever given him. This was real, she had to remind herself. He was real. He was back. Sokka was back. They were both okay.

She didn’t have to worry anymore.

“How are you here?” she asked as she pulled away, not bothering to hide the mixture of relief and elation in her voice. “What’s going on? Where did you go?”

Sokka gave her an embarrassed grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “We… kind of went to a Fire Nation prison?”

Before Katara could question what the _hell_ her brother had been thinking, her dad pulled them both into a second hug. Katara allowed herself a deep, shaky breath, burying her face into her father’s side and relaxing into his embrace. She could demand more information later. For now, she was determined to appreciate that her family had finally been reunited, and this time - this time they were together for _good_.

What was harder for her to grasp was that… Zuko had been a part of it.

Deep down, Katara recognized that Zuko was doing everything in his power to prove himself. That didn’t mean she had to forgive him, no. Aang had reassured her that she could take as much time as she needed to make that decision, and she would. She _was_. But she wasn’t so dimwitted as to ignore the effort he was putting in to turn a new leaf.

Of course, he’d done that before. Hadn’t he. Beneath the glistening green crystals in Ba Sing Se, he’d offered her sympathy. The second she’d turned her back, he’d dug a knife shaped like a splintered lightning bolt right between her shoulder blades.

And Aang had died.

Katara found herself eyeing Zuko warily for the rest of the evening. He’d returned Sokka. He’d returned her father. But he’d also taken Aang, and she had then returned life to the Avatar with the spirit water.

The Fire Nation had taken her mother.

Katara’s hand drifted up to her necklace, because there was no way to return her mother to their world. No way for Katara to repair her _own_ mistakes, to have turned around and ran and ran and arrived a second earlier instead of a second too late.

How was she supposed to handle everything on her own? To grapple with the frustratingly complicated narrative of give and take? The idea of push and pull like water between herself and Aang? Was it truly giving when the action was only to return something taken before?

Was she… Was she unjustified?

No. No. Her distrust was valid. All of her friends had confirmed that.

But Katara couldn’t figure out how to reconcile her anger - her _hurt_ \- with the inkling of gratitude that swirled in the pit of her stomach.

Even beyond her own confliction, however… Something was off with Zuko. Other than the uncharacteristic half-smile Aang had informed her the firebender had given upon seeing her and Sokka hug their dad, he’d been all but expressionless since his return. Even as her brother had regaled them with the tale of their great escape from prison, it had been their dad - and Suki - who’d corrected him when he got too dramatic. Not Zuko. And Katara was certain _he_ had to have been Sokka’s primary partner in crime.

“And then, just as the line was about to snap and send us all to our deaths in the boiling water, one of Azula’s sidekicks swooped in and saved us!” Sokka exclaimed.

“What?” Toph demanded. “That’s stupid, Snoozles. At least stick sort of close to the truth here.”

“Actually, he got this part right,” Suki said with a laugh, giving her boyfriend’s hand a gentle squeeze. “It was crazy. One of Azula’s friends - er, the girl with knives - fought off the prison guards who were cutting the line before they’d managed to saw all the way through it.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what made her help, but she saved us.”

“Mai.”

Everyone turned to face Zuko, who was staring down into his cup of tea. It was still full.

“Her name was Mai,” he repeated.

There was an awkward pause, then Sokka nodded. “Yeah. Mai. Because she was able to distract the guards, we managed to get out of there alive!”

Katara watched as Zuko placed his cup on the ground before he stood and left the group without another word. No one else seemed to notice him go.

As he disappeared into the shadows of the air temple, Katara couldn’t help but wonder what he was planning. If he was planning anything at _all_. Were her suspicions getting the best of her once again? And yet he _had_ been acting distant all evening - as in, more so than usual. Better to be suspicious than sorry any day, she knew, but at the same time…

Katara wanted to slam her head against a wall. It was _easier_ to hate Zuko. Easier to distrust him. Easier to pretend he was unforgivable and could never make up for how he’d hurt her. Easier to pretend that he - that she had nothing in common with him. Easier to stay a safe distance away. Easier, easier, _why was it so much easier?_

She was certain Aang had the perfect advice for her dilemma, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask him for it. She didn’t want him to see her so… indecisive. Uncertain.

Weak.

Katara pulled her father aside after everyone had finished dinner. Sokka and Aang were tidying up everyone’s dishes, and Zuko was still nowhere to be seen. Good. She didn’t want him to overhear what she was about to say. Part of her was… maybe afraid to say it.

“Is something wrong?” her father asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. How did he - Had she already given herself away? “I noticed you looked a little queasy while we ate.”

Ah. Katara grimaced. With her luck, everyone else had probably noticed her apparent ‘illness,’ too. Hopefully none of them would try to offer her a homemade remedy for nausea. “I’m fine,” she said curtly. “I just wanted to tell you…” Her jaw tightened as her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You can’t trust Zuko, okay?”

Her father frowned. “Why?”

Katara opened and closed her mouth. “You just - You can’t. He hasn’t proved himself yet.”

Her father gave her a sympathetic look. “I know he’s from the Fire Nation, Katara, but… he committed treason to help get us out of the Boiling Rock. That’s a big sacrifice to make.” He paused, but tentatively added, “Your brother seems to be on good terms with him.”

“I’m not Sokka, am I?” she snapped before wincing at the harshness of her tone. “I mean…” She blew air between her lips. “Look. He brought you back. But… that doesn’t make up for everything he’s taken from me - from _us_.” Her fists slackened, and her right hand crept up across her chest to clutch her mother’s necklace. “Zuko has betrayed us before, okay? So just - be careful around him. I don’t want you to…” She bit down on her bottom lip, unsure why a knot was rising in her throat. What was she so afraid of? Losing another parent? Losing Aang? A second - third? - betrayal?

Forgiveness?

Her father’s gaze softened, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. The warmth was comforting. “I promise you, Katara. I am not leaving you or your brother again.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “But I understand your hesitation to trust Zuko. I will take caution around him as I would any former Fire Nation soldier.”

Sometimes Katara wondered about what her father had gone through on the front lines of the war. She hadn’t yet dared to ask.

“Thank you,” she whispered, unable to articulate her gratitude in any other way.

“If you want my advice,” her father said after a pause, moving his hand from her shoulder to tuck her hair behind her ear, “I would say to let him grow.” He gave her a soft smile. “He is nearly as young as you are, you know.”

Katara nodded, blinking back tears. It was strange to bear commonalities with Zuko.

Her father pulled her into a hug that she weakly returned before he left to help Sokka and Aang with clean-up from dinner.

Katara sighed. Her head ached.

One by one, they all began to turn in for the night. Teo fell asleep first, as he was often up earlier than any of them. Apparently he liked joining Aang for morning glides. Toph and the Duke had passed out, strangely, at the exact same time. Zuko, being a firebender, Katara supposed, had also turned in early. Though she still hadn’t seen him return to camp. Sokka and Suki had fallen asleep next to each other, hand-in-hand. Her dad and Chit Sang had turned in after a lengthy discussion about sea prunes.

Aang was off meditating, Katara knew, though she wasn’t precisely sure where he’d disappeared in the temple to do so.

As for herself… She’d laid down not long after Teo - in other words: obscenely early - and yet no matter what she tried, sleep would not come. Counting koala-sheep, shifting positions, humming childhood lullabies - nothing worked. And every time she at least managed to _start_ drifting off, something would jolt her awake, from thunder booming in the echoes of her memory to the smell of charred flesh filling her nose to the sound of a hundred rocks crumbling -

Katara’s eyes flew open. Stars dotted the midnight sky and blood coursed hotly through her veins as her heart raced at twice its normal speed.

Rocks breaking. Shattering. Those - Those were not typical temple sounds, were they? No, not in the middle of the night. Were they under attack? Had the Fire Nation tracked them down?

Katara sat up slowly, as to not disturb her friends sleeping around her. Aang, she noted, was still gone.

Her blood turned to ice as she realized Zuko was nowhere to be found, either.

Katara all but flew to her feet, and she had to actively force herself to creep away from their camp in an attempt to avoid waking anyone. Agonizing as it was to do so, she somehow managed to ignore the voice in the back of her mind screaming at her to _run, run faster, you have to find Aang_. A dozen other thoughts demanded her attention simultaneously, providing an effective distraction. Where _was_ Aang? Where was Zuko? What was the source behind the crashing, the breaking of rocks that seemed to grow ever louder with each passing second?

Katara followed the sound, snaking around the outskirts of the temple until she wound up outside of an area almost - but not entirely - sealed off by walls of fractured concrete blocks. It was hard to tell in the darkness, especially as clouds continually floated over the moon, but she wondered if the enclosure was an unintentional result of “Combustion Man’s” first - and final - visit there.

Katara’s eyes widened as she caught sight of a scarlet flame between a jagged crevice that had split a chunk of concrete nearly in two. It was the perfect peephole, and as she peered inside, she saw none other than Zuko shooting blast after blast at the walls of his ‘arena.’ Was he _serious_?! Firebending?! In the middle of the _night_?! He was practically _asking_ for someone to attack them! Spirits, it was like he was shooting a giant crimson flare that screamed _the Avatar is here_ to anyone looking -

Wait.

No.

He wouldn’t…

Would he?

Aang trusted him. Aang _trusted_ him! Why would Zuko betray their connection by signaling to the Fire Nation? Had it been a ploy the entire time? A bizarre tactic to get back on his father’s good side after it was revealed Aang had survived Ba Sing Se? What justification could he _possibly_ have -

Katara stiffened as a muffled sob fell upon her ears. A sob from… from inside the stone walls?

Why would Zuko be -

“I’ll talk to him.”

Katara bit her tongue to hold back a shriek. “Sokka!” she hissed accusingly as she spun on her heel to face her brother. She glared at him. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that!”

Sokka gave her a dubious look. “Uh, you’re literally spying on Zuko right now,” he whispered. “So I don’t think you’re in any spot to criticize.”

Katara bristled. “I was _not_ spying on him,” she retorted, forcing herself to keep her voice low. “I was investigating to find out why I heard rocks breaking in the middle of the night, and Zuko just _happened_ to be the cause.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Trust me when I say I would never _actively_ seek him out.”

Sokka rolled his eyes, holding his hands up in mock-surrender. “Alright, alright. My bad. Sorry.” He grimaced at the sound of another half-choked sob. Katara knew her own expression had to be much the same. “But yeah,” her brother continued. “Let me talk to him. I… I think I know what’s on his mind.”

Katara was tempted to ask what his suspicions were. But she refrained. Before her brother could move all the way past, however, she grabbed his arm. “Hey” - she took in a shaky breath, shoulders shuddering with the action - “was… was Aang back at camp by the time you started following me?”

Sokka first appeared puzzled by her question, but after meeting her gaze, something must have clicked, because his expression softened. Katara was terrified to think about what he’d read in her eyes. “Yeah,” he reassured her with a firm nod. “He’s back.”

Katara hesitated, then released his arm. Tension slowly eased from her shoulders. “Okay. Thank you.”

Sokka moved around to a different side of the rubble-bound ‘room,’ and Katara heard him take a deep breath before he entered. Perhaps against her better judgement, she positioned herself next to the crevice she’d first spotted Zuko firebending through. Katara couldn’t bring herself to watch, but she pressed her ear against the stone wall, and she listened.

“Sokka?” Zuko’s voice was hoarse, but his startlement was clear. He hadn’t expected anyone to find him.

“That’s my name,” Sokka said, his joking tone an obvious attempt to bring at least a sense of levity to the air. “A pretty good one, if I say so myself.”

“Sorry if I woke you,” Zuko continued after a pause, apparently ignoring Sokka’s teasing remark. Katara couldn’t blame him. “I was just” - he coughed - “practicing some forms. To teach Aang.” He cleared his throat. “Tomorrow.”

Sokka chuckled. Katara supposed he hadn’t given up in his quest to… cheer Zuko up? Alleviate the tension? Something along those lines. “The moon has already started setting, so I think you mean later today.”

“Oh.” Katara had a feeling Zuko’s face had gone scarlet as his fire. “Uh. Yeah. I guess so.”

Sokka sighed. “Alright. I’ll get to the point.” A beat passed. “You’re worried about Mai, aren’t you?”

Katara frowned. Mai? Where did she recognize that name from?

“What?” Zuko said. The shock in his voice made it clear to Katara that her brother had struck a nerve. But Mai. _Mai_. Who -

“Mai. Your girlfriend.” Katara could picture her brother raising an eyebrow at Zuko, or some similarly dubious expression. “She’s stuck at the Boiling Rock because she saved us today - I mean, yesterday, so you’re worried about her.”

The name clicked. _Mai_. One of Azula’s - _the murderer’s_ \- cronies who’d apparently stopped the guards from sawing the line through when they were trying to escape the prison. Zuko had been the one to name her as they’d all sat around the campfire. Right before he’d disappeared.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zuko snapped, snarling with all the venom Katara had learned to recognize from their interactions before he’d joined their group.

“Zuko, there’s literally no reason to be embarrassed that you’re worried about your girlfriend.” There was a gentleness to her brother’s voice that Katara recognized too clearly from her own conversations with Sokka about…

Aang.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Zuko inhaled sharply. Katara’s fingers curled, her nails scratching over the stone wall, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull her ear away. “Not anymore. I had to break up with her before I - when I left the Fire Nation, okay? I told you already.” He breathed out a slow, unsteady breath. “I couldn’t drag her into my mess. She deserves” - he faltered - “deserved better.”

“Uh, your point?” Katara would have laughed at the flatness of her brother’s tone had her heart not been weighing so heavily in her chest, sitting atop her lungs and crushing them. “Just because you broke up with her doesn’t mean you aren’t still in love with her. And even if it did mean that, you can still be worried about her.”

“Leave me alone. We aren’t talking about this,” Zuko growled. Katara heard feet shuffling. “I’m going back to bed.”

“First of all, you clearly _need_ to talk about this,” Sokka scolded, sounding far too much like ‘Wang Fire’ for Katara’s liking. “I’m sure firebending is a great _physical_ release of your stress and whatnot, but emotionally, sometimes you need to do a little more. And second” - there was more movement - “I’m the only one here who could possibly understand what you’re feeling right now. So talk to me.”

“Let go of me,” Zuko snapped. Sokka must have grabbed him. “You have no idea -”

“Yes, I do,” Sokka interrupted. His tone was sharper, now. “Look. When I found out Suki was in the Boiling Rock, and I didn’t know if she would -” He stopped, and Katara heard him take a slow breath. “Trust me. I get it.”

“No. No, you _don’t_ get it!” Zuko argued. “Stop acting like you do!”

“You’re worried about her being alone,” Sokka countered, and time seemed to stand still. Katara didn’t need to look through the crevice to know Zuko had frozen in place. “You’re worried about how the other prisoners will treat her -”

“Stop!” Zuko sounded dangerously close to tears or rage, Katara couldn’t be sure. “Just - Just _stop_!”

“You’re worried about how the guards will treat her, too,” Sokka continued, ignoring Zuko’s protests. “Especially because she committed treason, one of the highest crimes in the Fire Nation. You’re also worried about how long she’ll be locked up in there. You’re worried that she might be -”

“I’m worried she’s _dead_ , okay?” Zuko’s voice cracked with the interruption, and Katara couldn’t hold back a sharp gasp. Her knees buckled, but she managed to stay upright. “I’m worried she’s _dead_.”

Katara knew her brother’s face had gone pale. “What? What are you -”

“I know what my sister is like.” Katara’s heart clenched in her chest. “I know what her punishment for traitors is.” There was the sound of bone shattering against rubble, fracturing across in a hundred directions. “I told you that you wouldn’t understand! Mai _sacrificed_ herself for me, okay? And I” - Zuko broke, an ugly sob escaping his throat - “I couldn’t save her!”

Katara’s knees failed, and she collapsed to the ground, barely registering the jolt that shuddered through her body from the impact. Tears spilled down her face, and as Katara looked to the sky and saw lightning she knew wasn’t there, she wondered if Zuko understood what it was like to watch the most important person in his life die at his hands, too.

~*~

_Go find your dad, sweetie. I’ll handle this._

_No! The Fire Nation can’t separate our family again!_

_It’ll be okay. It’s not forever._

Katara had pulled her dad into the tightest hug she’d ever given him before joining her friends on Appa. Why was it that every time there was light at the end of the tunnel, a landslide occurred, clouding her vision and filling her lungs and sealing her family off from her once again?

Azula had found them.

The Fire Nation had left its mark of destruction, transforming the once-beautiful Western Air Temple into ruins. It had stolen Katara’s father from her once again, just as it had extinguished the light of her mother so many years ago. Fire existed for no other purpose than to destroy, to steal oxygen from lungs while simultaneously filling them with ash to further ensure their victim’s downfall.

Blackened snow fell, cold and hot at the same time, on Katara’s shoulders.

“Wow, camping,” Aang said, amused. “It really seems like old times again, doesn’t it?”

Zuko absentmindedly tapped the side of his wooden cup. “If you really want it to feel like old times, I could, uh” - he offered the group an awkward smirk - “chase you around a while and try to capture you.”

Something ugly curled in Katara’s stomach while the rest of her friends laughed. Ropes dug into her wrists. Her back against a tree. Her mother’s necklace dangled tauntingly before her eyes. Aang, eyes closed and arrows glowing, dragged off through the snow. His body limp. Lifeless.

Azula had found them… because of _Zuko_. She’d tracked him down, and in doing so, Aang - the Avatar, the _world_ \- had been put in danger once more.

“Ha, ha,” Katara muttered, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Sokka raised his cup. “To Zuko! Who knew after all those times he tried to snuff us out, today he’d be our hero?”

‘Hero’ was a funny word to describe the reason they’d been forced to flee in the first place.

Her brother had laughed at her, actually. Earlier that day. Said he’d been surprised she’d reached out to catch Zuko, since she still wasn’t ‘his biggest fan and all.’ Katara had silenced his laughter with a single glare. But inside? Fear ate away at the edges of her stomach.

Did they really think she was such a monster? What was wrong with _her_ , where she couldn’t find it in herself to offer Zuko a smile and a helping hand beyond necessity when everyone else could?

“Hear, hear!” everyone exclaimed. Katara swallowed her nausea as Aang nudged Zuko with his elbow. It was stupid, it was selfish, it was _wrong_ , but she didn’t want him anywhere near the firebender.

A smile crept onto Zuko’s lips. “I’m touched.” His face fell. “I… don’t deserve this.”

Katara’s grip tightened on her cup. “Yeah, no kidding.” She slammed it to the ground before storming off. The concerned whispers of her friends followed her, but she shut her eyes and ignored the noise.

Katara found herself sitting down on the edge of a rocky cliff, far enough away from camp for her to be alone with her thoughts, but not so distant that anyone would worry she’d disappeared. The vantage point she’d chosen overlooked the ocean below, and the near-full moon made the water glisten with silver.

It should have been peaceful. Instead, Katara’s mind only raced faster.

She thought things were improving. She thought _she’d_ been improving. She wouldn’t say she’d been _friendly_ with Zuko, necessarily, but the raw panic that had once filled her chest whenever he was alone with Aang - with _any_ of her friends - had stopped. Maybe she still struggled to smile at him, but she’d made an effort to keep her attention towards him neutral rather than instantaneously suspicious. Only a few days ago, she’d allowed Zuko to regulate the intensity of the flame beneath the pot when she and Aang were cooking! Progress was progress, wasn’t it? She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d truly felt - felt _angry_ at him.

Until now.

Here she was, white hot frustration bubbling in her stomach. She didn’t understand what was - what was wrong with her.

Or maybe she did, and she was just too afraid to -

Katara stiffened at the sound of footsteps approaching behind her. She turned around to see - right. Of course! The spirits couldn’t grant her a moment of respite, not even one brief second to clear her head.

She stood and made her way closer to the edge of the cliff, hoping Zuko would get the message that she wanted - needed - to be alone.

“This isn’t fair!” he shouted. Katara paused. “Everyone else seems to trust me now! What is it with you?!”

Katara’s jaw clenched. Of all the selfish, arrogant, _entitled_ things to say - “Oh, everyone trusts you now!” she snapped, spinning on her heel to send him a seething, venomous glare. “I was the _first_ person to trust you!” Who cared if it was a lie?

She clutched the fabric above her heart, biting her tongue to prevent herself from saying something she knew she’d regret. “Remember? Back in Ba Sing Se?”

Lightning flashed before her eyes. Ash swirled around her body.

Katara pointed behind her. “And you turned around and betrayed me.” _Killed Aang._ “Betrayed _all_ of us!” _Took my mother._

Zuko closed his eyes. She didn’t miss the tightness of his own jaw. After a pause, he finally said, “What can I do to make it up to you?”

Katara could barely contain her harsh laughter as she walked towards him. “You really want to know?” She stopped with less than a foot of space left between them. “Hmm. Maybe you could reconquer Ba Sing Se in the name of the Earth King! Or, I know!” Her fists clenched at her sides, and she leaned in to give him a cold glare. “You could bring my mother back.”

Katara waited until she was alone in her tent to let her tears fall.

~*~

She couldn’t sleep. That wasn’t a surprise, of course, but that didn’t make the situation any less aggravating. She was already pissed at Zuko. A sleepless night would only serve to irritate her further.

Katara scoffed, rolling onto her side. ‘Why didn’t she trust him yet.’ As if he was _entitled_ to her trust. As if - as if she _owed_ her trust to him. But really, what other sort of behavior could she expect from the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation?

Katara sighed. Many different behaviors. Kindness, particularly with Aang. Embarrassment, often because of Sokka or Toph’s teasing. Even humor, albeit a pretty terrible sense of one.

She rolled onto her back again. Maybe she was being unfair, snobbish as his demand had been.

Katara groaned, running a hand down the side of her face. If her thoughts were determined to keep her awake, she might as well sit with them somewhere a little more calming.

Katara made sure no one else was out and about before she left her tent. There seemed to be two shadows visible inside her brother’s, though. Who would be with - oh, wait. Ugh. He was probably spending “quality time” with Suki. Then again, Suki’s tent was completely shut… Forget it, Katara scolded herself. It wasn’t like she _needed_ to know what her brother was doing. All that mattered was none of her friends were outside to see her creeping away from the campsite. She didn’t want to be disturbed this time.

Katara ended up on the beach below the cliff face she’d stood upon only a few hours earlier. She took her shoes off, wading through the shallow water that lapped at the shoreline before she sat down behind the invisible marker where the tides ended their journey onto the sand. If she extended her legs, the water brushed the soles of her feet. There was a stillness to the salty air, and Katara took a deep breath, hoping that calm would make its way to her mind.

Was… Was there something wrong with her, after all? Why did her definition of fair seem so skewed compared to her friends’? What was the line between - between justice and hate? Between anger and fear?

Zuko had done horrible things in the past. No one denied that, not even Zuko himself. The Fire Nation, too, had done horrible things, and yet Katara knew firsthand that… to some extent, however big or small, Fire Nation citizens were also victims of the war. She’d donned the persona of the Painted Lady because - because it hadn’t _mattered_ that they were Fire Nation. They were people in _need_ , and she would never turn away when there was a chance, no matter how small, that she could provide _help_.

But… she’d been too late to help her mother. She’d almost been too late to help Aang.

Katara sighed, pulling her legs to her chest and burying her face in her knees. Why was everything so confusing? Was she - Was she just out of her mind? For spirits’ sake, _why_ couldn’t she -

“Katara?”

Katara’s head snapped upwards upon hearing her name, eyes widening as she saw - “Aang?”

Aang offered her an embarrassed smile, and they both proceeded to ask the other, “What are you doing here?” in perfect unison.

Katara’s face went scarlet while Aang burst out laughing. “Great minds think alike,” he teased, and stiffness started to dissipate from Katara’s shoulders. How he never failed to make her relax, she didn’t understand. Not that she was complaining. Aang then gestured next to her. “Do you mind if I sit?”

Katara shook her head, and he joined her. Aang left a few inches of space between them, and when he made no move to close the gap, Katara took the initiative herself. Their shoulders touched, and Aang gave her a gentle smile.

Oh, Tui and La. Even when she wanted to be alone, she could never manage to refuse his company.

“You know, I don’t think you answered my question,” Aang said after a pause. “What _are_ you doing out here?”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t exactly answer when I asked, either.”

Aang laughed. “Oh, are we playing that game?”

“I mean, you started it.”

He shook his head, and Katara couldn’t fight back her smile. “Well, _I’m_ out here because I saw a certain friend of mine leaving our camp. A waterbender, actually. You might know her,” he began. Katara rolled her eyes, though she was still smiling. “When she didn’t come back, I got worried about her,” he continued, gaze trailing over the gently cresting ocean. His voice grew softer. “I just wanted to check on her. Make sure she’s okay.”

Katara didn’t respond at first, too busy blinking back the tears that had unexpectedly welled in the corners of her eyes. “I, uh” - she cleared her throat - “she told me that she’s fine. Your friend, I mean. The waterbender.”

Aang hummed. “That’s good.” He tilted his head, bending the sand beneath his right hand into simple patterns. The four elements, she realized. “But I think I want to hear it directly from her. Just to be sure.”

Katara managed a weak smile. “Trust me. She’s - She’s okay -” Her voice faltered, and she slammed her hand over her mouth in horror. Mortified, she couldn’t even make herself _look_ at Aang. He didn’t speak, though, and she took a deep breath to collect herself.

“Actually,” she whispered after a pause, “your friend told me that she… might not be okay after all.”

Aang turned to face her. “Katara,” he said, slowly, gently, as if she were a glass statue easily shattered, “why are you really out here?”

His voice was pleading, and Katara had to squeeze her eyes shut, trying in vain to prevent more tears from slipping out. “I needed some space to clear my head,” she managed to say, her voice scratchy. “But if I’m honest… I’m not sure I succeeded.”

Aang’s brows furrowed in concern, and the lump in Katara’s throat inched higher. “Something’s on your mind, then.”

She nodded, not daring to speak.

Aang bit his bottom lip, and Katara swore she saw… recognition flicker in his eyes. But how could he possibly know -

“Is it… Does it have to do with Zuko?”

Katara stared at him in shock, her tears momentarily ebbing. Tui and La, was she really such an open book? First Sokka, then Toph - or was it just Aang who somehow knew her better than she knew herself?

“I know you two argued earlier,” he continued, either oblivious to or politely disregarding her surprise. “At least, Zuko seemed pretty frustrated when he came back to camp.” Aang paused. “Well, more than usual. Plus, you went to bed right away when _you_ came back, which you never do when the moon is waxing.”

Right. Context clues. Aang was more than smart enough to piece it all together. And, she supposed, her dislike of Zuko wasn’t exactly secret, even if their relationship had begun to improve in recent days.

“Zuko said some… callous things to me,” she admitted, flexing her palms. She hadn’t realized how much tension she’d been holding in them. “So no, I’m not particularly happy with him right now.” An understatement.

Aang pursed his lips. “What did he say?” His eyes widened, and he hastily added, “Only if you want to talk about it, of course. No pressure.”

Katara shrugged. What else could she do? Go back to her tent and fail at falling asleep for the umpteenth time? At least Aang was the least likely of their friends to argue with her. “Oh, you know. Asked me why _I_ don’t trust him yet when everyone else does.” Her fingers curled into the sand. “As if I owe him my trust. As if I’m - I’m _obligated_ to give my trust to him.” She shook her head. “Right. Because that went _so_ well for me last time.”

Aang hesitated, then nodded. “ _Is_ that why you don’t trust him?” he asked. “I mean, I completely agree that you don’t owe him anything. But…” He exhaled slowly. “Is that the reason? Because of what happened in Ba Sing Se?”

She was aware Aang didn’t know the full extent of the conversation she’d shared with Zuko. Then again, she supposed that was because she’d been too embarrassed to ever tell him. To admit how close she’d come to losing the spirit water that had saved his life minutes later.

The lump in her throat had returned. “I” - she shook her head - “I’m just _confused_.” Katara inhaled sharply, and she pulled at the front of her tunic, as if somehow that would allow more air to reach her lungs. “I think - I think part of me _does_ want to forgive him. I know how much he’s helped you, I - I see in his face how much he _cares_ about you, and -”

She forced herself to take a deep breath, one hand falling to the ground to brace her. “And sure, he helped save my dad and Suki, but that doesn’t - it doesn’t _change_ all the other horrible things he’s done to us! That the Fire Nation has done to _me_! He can’t” - she blinked back frustrated tears - “he can’t erase the past so easily!”

She lifted her hands to stare down at her palms, a choked sob shuddering through her chest. In a few short nights, the moon would be full, and she’d be all too aware of her own blood pulsing through her body. “Aang, I just - I don’t know _what_ to think anymore.”

Aang placed a hand on her shoulder. The weight provided comfort, grounding her as her thoughts began to spiral. “You don’t have to rush your decision, Katara.” His voice was warm. Kind. “And even if you tried to rush yourself, we both know trust doesn’t work like that.”

Katara took a shaky breath. “Sometimes, I see him and I just - I get so _angry_ ,” she whispered, though her voice grew louder with each word. Tears welled in her eyes. “And I _hate_ that feeling! I hate that I can’t get over myself! I hate that I’m so scared to trust him again! After he - After he -”

Her breaths were now coming out in sharp, sporadic gasps as her chest began closing in on itself. She was choking on the air, on the _ash_ , she couldn’t _breathe_ and her body was no longer under her own control and maybe it never _had_ been and -

Hama’s laugh echoed in her ears.

Katara shattered.

“Katara? Please, Katara, I need you to listen to me, okay? Follow my -”

Aang’s voice filtered in through a haze, so close and yet so far out of her reach. Katara did the only thing she could think of - she _extended_ her reach, pulling Aang’s hand from her shoulder and clutching it between her own. He was there, his pulse was beating, he -

“He _killed_ you, Aang!” She was sobbing and she didn’t _care_ , everything just _hurt_ \- “He stood there and _watched_ as Azula shot you down! If I had used the spirit water on him - if I had gotten to you a second later, Aang, then you’d be - you’d be -”

Her voice cracked, and she couldn’t finish the thought.

It was Zuko’s fault. He had betrayed them, stood listlessly by while she could only -

Another sob heaved through Katara’s chest. No. No, it was no one’s fault but her own. _She_ had made the mistake of trusting Zuko. _She_ had considered sacrificing the spirit water. It was her, only her, who had been too slow to save - to save -

Black snow rained down, stinging Katara’s skin and mixing with her tears. How was the pain so real when the past was so long gone? _Why hadn’t she run faster_ -

“Katara, I need you to listen to me. You are going to get through this moment. The first thing we’re going to do is synchronize our breathing, okay? I _know_ you can do this.”

Katara looked up, and for a moment she saw her mother smiling down at her.

_You can do this, sweetie._

She blinked, and her mother vanished, replaced by a worried Aang sitting before her, his hand still caught between her own.

“Breathe with me,” he instructed, and she obeyed, copying his slow, exaggerated breaths until her heart was no longer trying to escape her chest.

“You’re doing great,” Aang reassured her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Katara didn’t understand how he hadn’t pulled away from her vice grip, which she found herself still unable to slacken. “Now, I want you to tell me five things you can see. Okay?”

Katara nodded. “You,” she said, voice wavering but nonetheless steadier than before. “The ocean. The beach. The stars. And… the moon.” Sharp inhalations punctuated the pause between each example, but her breathing was newly strong.

“That’s awesome!” Aang gave her a warm smile. “I told you. You’re going to push through this. Tell me four things you can feel.”

“The sand,” Katara replied. Exhaustion had begun seeping into her bones. Better than guilt gnawing at her insides. “The water. Uh - my clothes.” She squeezed his hand. “You.”

Aang gave her another comforting smile. “Perfect. Can you tell me three things -”

Katara shook her head. “I’m okay now.” She took a deep, slow breath. “I’m okay.”

Aang hesitated. “Are you sure? It’s alright if you need to -”

Katara shook her head again. “I promise. I’m okay.” She released his hand, as she regretted having gripped the life out of it, though she couldn’t deny she missed the warmth.

Aang’s concerned gaze seemed to pierce right through her. “Katara. Please. If you still need -”

“Actually,” she murmured before he could speak any further. Her voice was hushed, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his eyes. “Can you…”

Aang sat in front of her, present and alive and well and _there, he was right there_ , and yet Katara wanted - needed - to be sure.

“Can I hug you?”

Aang’s expression softened, and Katara was worried she’d burst into tears all over again. He held out his arms. Less than a second went by before Katara leaned forward and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I’m here,” he murmured as she buried her face into his clothed shoulder. “I’m okay. You saved me, Katara.”

She… She’d saved him. She hadn’t used the spirit water too early. She hadn’t caught him too late.

It wasn’t her fault. She was not to blame.

Katara’s fingers brushed over the rough, knotted scar in the center of Aang’s back. Electricity tingled across it.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way. Aang holding her close, Katara feeling his heartbeat through her own chest. A reminder that he was there with her. Breathing. Alive. Safe.

Because she’d saved him. He was alive… because of her.

Eventually, Katara moved to pull away, and Aang gently released her.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she murmured after a pause. She knew there was nothing inherently shameful about vulnerability, and yet…

Aang stubbornly shook his head. “No. You don’t need to apologize.”

“But -”

“ _No_. You shouldn’t have felt like you needed to keep that buried inside for so long.” He shook his head again. “I should be the one apologizing to you for not paying closer attention.”

Katara chuckled. “Don’t blame yourself, either.” She sighed, wiping the remnants of tears from her face. “I didn’t _want_ anyone to know. I chose to keep it to myself, I guess because I thought I could… figure things out on my own.” She held up a hand before Aang could speak. “I know, I know. You don’t need to say it.”

Aang gave her an amused smile, but his expression soon became more pensive. “I think I understand your distrust of Zuko a little more,” he said after a beat had passed. “About Ba Sing Se, I mean. And again, you don’t owe him your forgiveness. But.” His gray eyes were serious, and Katara found herself unable to look away. “Zuko didn’t kill me. You’re right that he was there, and you’re right that he didn’t do anything, but I do _not_ blame Zuko for Azula’s decision.” His expression then softened. It was… gentle. Empathetic. “I don’t want you to blame him either, okay? Hatred only hurts the holder.”

Katara sighed, frustrated. Aang was right - he often was - but she just didn’t know _how_ to think any differently. “At this point, I can’t figure out what else I’m supposed to feel,” she grumbled. Even if she wanted to believe otherwise… “The only thing firebenders know is how to destroy.”

“That’s not true,” Aang said, and he spoke with such intensity that it startled her. “The Fire Nation may have built its empire on destruction, but fire itself is not defined by its power to destroy.” Aang stared down at his palms, and Katara wondered if he was speaking to himself as much as he was to her. “Fire is… life. It’s rebirth.” He closed his hands. “New possibilities.”

New possibilities.

Maybe even… a third chance.

Aang’s face grew red as he lifted his gaze to meet her own. “Sorry. I, uh -” He cleared his throat. “The Fire Nation has done unspeakable things.” To both of them, Katara knew. “But you don’t - you _shouldn’t_ force yourself to keep carrying that anger.” He bit his lip. “Seeing you in so much pain and rage just now was… really scary.”

Katara swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll talk to him,” she said after a pause. “To Zuko. I don’t - I’m not sure if I’m ready to meet him in the middle, but… I’ll talk to him.”

Aang’s eyes widened. “You will?”

Katara almost laughed at his surprise. “Yes, I will.” She took a deep breath before slowly exhaling. “I’m tired of being angry.”

There was a pause. Then Aang nodded. “I understand.” He stood, brushing sand off his robes before offering her his hand. “Ready to head back to camp and get some rest?”

Katara slipped her hand into his, grabbing her shoes with the other. She didn’t let go, even after he’d helped her to her feet. She said nothing as they walked side by side, hand in hand, on their way back to camp. Because with Aang, words weren’t always needed.

Katara slept soundly the rest of the night, drifting off as soon as she laid down in her tent. Her body thanked her for it the next day, as she awoke with a bubble of hope rising in her chest. A new day of new possibilities, right?

As she stepped outside her tent to greet the risen sun, she was shocked to see Zuko already sitting on the ground before her. “You look terrible,” she commented, an attempt at a joke that came off a little more acidic than intended.

“I waited out here all night,” Zuko said, lifting his head.

Katara didn’t reply to that, mostly because she was unsure if he was telling the truth or not. “What do you want?” she finally asked, running her brush through her hair.

“I know who killed your mother.”

Katara froze.

“And I’m going to help you find him.”

The bubble burst.

~*~

Katara could almost forget she was receiving assistance from Zuko if she didn’t glance behind her. Part of her feared all he wanted was her forgiveness, and that he didn’t truly _care_ about helping her. Another part of her was hopeful, because if he was genuine, maybe, just maybe, she would finally be free from the ashen weight on her shoulders.

And the rest of her? It cried for justice. For answers. For an… appropriate response.

Katara walked up to Aang. “I need to borrow Appa.”

Aang glanced behind her, probably at Zuko. He grinned, and the mixture of hope and eagerness in his eyes made bile rise in the back of her throat. “Why? Is it your turn to take a little field trip with Zuko?”

Katara squared her shoulders. “Yes. It is.”

Aang blinked. Maybe he’d noticed the tension in the air. “Oh. What’s going on?”

Katara flexed her hands at her sides. “We’re going to find the man who took my mother from me.” She noticed Sokka stand up, shock and concern permeating his features. She pretended she hadn’t seen him.

“Sokka told me what happened,” Zuko said firmly. “I know who did it, and I know how to find him.”

“Um.” Aang’s eyebrows furrowed in worry. Katara had to look away, unable to maintain eye contact with her friend any longer. “And what, exactly, do you think this will accomplish?”

Katara shook her head, an irritated sigh escaping her lips that she halfway regretted. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.” Vengeance could never be a goal they’d share. Katara moved to walk away, unwilling to make herself witness to his reaction.

“Wait! Stop!” he called. Katara paused, though couldn’t turn around. “I do understand.” Part of her knew he understood, she _knew_ \- “You’re feeling unbelievable pain and rage.” Echoing his words from the night before. Echoing her _own_ advice she’d given to him what now felt like a thousand years ago. But it wasn’t the same, was it? “How do you think I felt when the sandbenders stole Appa? How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?”

Katara squeezed her eyes shut, stomach churning. Zuko said something in response - she couldn’t hear it. Didn’t hear it, maybe. Chose not to.

“I don’t think so,” Aang said. “I think it’s about getting revenge.”

For some reason, Katara couldn’t bear the idea of someone else defending her when she was the one stooping to such a low. She spun around to glare at her closest friend in the world, the boy who’d held her in his arms the night before when she’d needed him most. “Fine! Maybe it is! Maybe that’s what I need!” Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails had begun digging into her palms. “Maybe that’s what he deserves.”

“Katara, you sound like Jet -” Aang began, his voice worried and soft and spirits, she couldn’t _take_ it -

“It’s not the same!” she snapped. “Jet attacked the innocent. This man? He’s a _monster_.” Not so different from a lightning strike, at the end of the day.

“Katara,” Sokka said, approaching her, “she was my mother, too.” He pursed his lips. Confliction was written all over his face, and she knew his next words wouldn’t come easy. “But… I think Aang might be right.”

Was there such a thing anymore?

“Then you didn’t love her the way I do!” she exploded, and with her words, Katara feared something inside her was irreparably torn.

She’d never seen her brother look so broken.

“Katara…” Sokka couldn’t finish, glancing away. Aang stepped in.

“The monks used to say that revenge is like a two-headed rat viper,” he explained. “While you watch your enemy go down, you’re being poisoned yourself.”

Katara normally adored hearing about his people. Keeping their wisdom alive. Now she wished more than anything that they were - that they were _wrong_. It’d be easier that way.

She thought she heard Zuko say something more. “Now that I know he’s out there,” she began, to Aang and Sokka and only to them because Zuko had never needed her convincing, “now that I _know_ we can find him… I feel like I have no choice.”

The unsteadiness to her voice was humiliating. She wasn’t some emotional little girl anymore. Never again.

“Katara, you do have a choice.” Aang’s voice was kinder than she deserved. Far more certain than her own, too. Even. Stable. “Forgiveness.”

“That’s the same as doing nothing!” Zuko snapped, and Katara was torn. She knew Zuko was wrong… but _action_ was the only way to define ‘right.’

“No, it’s not. It’s easy to do nothing.” When Katara glanced at Aang, she had to look away what felt like less than a second later. Because instead of her friend… all she saw was the Avatar.

“It’s _hard_ to forgive.”

The last airbender.

“It’s not just hard,” Katara whispered, and she turned away when Aang reached out to her. She wasn’t ready to face his understanding. Maybe she’d never be. “It’s impossible.”

Katara kept to herself the rest of the day. She refused to talk to Aang, for fear his reason might slip through the cracks. Or worse, she was terrified she’d have to acknowledge how she had told him _herself_ that she was tired of being angry. Here she was, all over again. Stuck in a twisted, never-ending cycle. Because it was so much easier to be angry.

_Why_ was it so much easier?

But that promise had been about Zuko, she told herself. Her mother’s killer was a different story.

Katara couldn’t bring herself to talk to Sokka, either. She worried she’d only make things worse. Toph seemed to have disappeared entirely, perhaps understanding that this was a battle not for her to engage in. Katara appreciated her noninvolvement, whatever her reason.

Suki approached her, at one point.

“Hey,” she said quietly, standing a respectful distance away. “First, I’m not going to tell you what to do. I mean, if you’re worried that’s what I’m here for. Only you can make that decision. But…” Suki exhaled. “I’m here for you, okay? I’m not just ‘Sokka’s girlfriend.’ I’m your friend, too.”

Katara nodded, ignoring the lump in her throat. “Thanks.”

And she’d let that be the end of that, because Suki looked at Sokka the way Aang looked at her and it was all too much.

The sun eventually set, and Zuko gave her a black outfit identical to one he was already wearing. He didn’t explain where he got it from. She didn’t ask.

“You ready to go?” he said after she’d gotten dressed.

“Almost.” Katara took a deep breath before she met his eyes. His dark clothing resembled smoke and ash. She blinked the image away. “Why are you doing this?”

Zuko frowned. “What?”

“Why are you bothering to help me? Is this just some sick way to get me to trust you?” she demanded. Her gaze hardened. “And tell me the truth. Because I’m not as naive as I was at Ba Sing Se.”

No matter how afraid she was to learn his motivation… She would listen. She would give him a chance.

Zuko grimaced but nodded. There was a brief pause before he answered. “I’d be lying if I said that I’m not hoping this will help you trust me,” he admitted, at first not meeting her gaze. “But that’s not the only reason I’m helping you.” Something akin to grief flickered across his face. A little more tired, a little more empty. “I told you in Ba Sing Se that the Fire Nation took my mother from me. I don’t know what happened to her.” He finally looked her in the eyes. “You should know what happened to yours. And you deserve to exact justice.”

Katara hesitated. Then some of the stiffness began to disappear from her shoulders. “Good. Let’s go.”

Maybe he’d never understand. Not in the same way, at least. But now Katara could say… maybe he didn’t _have_ to. She appreciated his honesty. She’d need him there with her.

If it weren’t for the gravity of the mission she was preparing to undertake, Katara might have laughed at the thought. A few weeks ago, she’d rather have died than told herself she ‘needed’ Zuko.

“Katara?”

She paused, turning around to face Zuko again. “What?”

“I’m… I’m sorry about Ba Sing Se.” Zuko shook his head. “I should have listened to Uncle. I didn’t, and Azula almost killed Aang because of it.” He swallowed hard. “Worse… You had to watch.” He closed his eyes, and Katara wondered if he was remembering… Mai, her name had been. “I’m sorry.”

Katara decided not to tell him that Aang _had_ died. For one, that was Aang’s decision to make, not hers. Second… apparently he held the guilt as close to his chest as she had with her own. Strange. “Thank you,” she finally said, and the conversation ended.

They headed to Appa, but it wasn’t long before Aang and Sokka joined them.

“So you were just gonna take Appa anyway?” Aang asked.

Katara wished he sounded angrier. Hurt. Then she’d be able to ignore the guilt gnawing at her stomach, right? “Yes,” was her simple response, trying to present a stony expression.

“It’s okay, because I forgive you.” He offered her a crooked smile. “That give you any ideas?”

None she could bring herself to consider. “Don’t try to stop us.”

Aang’s face fell, but he shook his head. “I wasn’t planning to. This is a journey you need to take. You need to face this man.”

His empathy was suffocating, mostly because Katara wondered if she herself was even capable of such kindness anymore. Aang would insist she was, no doubt. He’d always been an optimist. She then climbed atop Appa, patting the sky bison’s head.

“But when you do… Please don’t choose revenge.” Aang’s voice was gentle, imploring. “Let your anger out, and then let it go. Forgive him.”

“Okay, we’ll be sure to do that, Guru Goody-Goody,” Zuko drawled, and Katara’s grip tightened on Appa’s reins.

“Thanks for understanding, Aang,” she said after a pause, nodding at her friend. The confidence in the airbender’s eyes told her everything she needed to know. “Yip yip.”

They headed to the Fire Navy communication tower first, as per Zuko’s instructions. It was a simple in-and-out mission, taking them less than five minutes to determine that the Southern Raiders were on patrol near Whaletail Island.

Zuko fell asleep on the second leg of their journey. Katara wished she could do the same. Although she knew Appa would be fine flying on his own for a few hours, her mind refused to let her rest.

This man… What _would_ she do? She would face him, remind him of his crime - and then what? Forgive him? Curse him?

Kill him?

Death was what he deserved. Death was what she _wanted_ to grace him with. The deed would be an equivalent exchange, one life traded for another.

Katara’s upper lip curled in disgust. No. That was a lie. Her mother’s life was worth a hundred times more than this man’s could ever be.

Where did that set the value of her own life, then?

“You should get some rest.”

Katara blinked, and it was day.

“We’ll be there in a few hours. You’ll need all your strength.”

Katara laughed. The bitterness was palpable. “Oh, don’t you worry about my strength. I have plenty.” She closed her eyes. “I’m not the helpless little girl I was when they came.”

Zuko didn’t respond. An unspoken question hung in the air.

Katara took a deep breath, then began reciting her version of the story to him. She wasn’t sure what compelled her to speak, especially because she knew he’d heard most of it from Sokka already, and yet… Something in her was willing to share her own experience. Maybe that wasn’t quite the ‘trust’ Zuko sought, but one step forward was better than none taken at all.

As she spoke, Katara couldn’t avoid reliving the day in her mind, though not for a lack of trying. The ash had never stopped falling, had it? Even if the flickers of blue lightning in the gray storm clouds had begun to fade?

_Go find your dad, sweetie. I’ll handle this._

“I ran as fast as I could.”

Had she? Could she have run faster? Could she have saved her mother, too?

“But we were too late.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “When we got there, the man was gone.” Her voice wavered. Katara flinched. “And so was she.”

“Your mother was a brave woman,” Zuko said after a pause. There was an odd note to his voice that Katara couldn’t quite place.

She gently clasped her mother’s necklace. “I know.”

~*~

It was night when they arrived. The full moon beat down from above, not unlike the blood pounding in Katara’s ears. The _thump, thump, thump_ akin to an echoing heartbeat drowned out every noise as she and Zuko broke onto the ship. She only vaguely heard him ask if she was ready before she slammed a jet of icy water at the iron door and broke it open.

This was her. This was her power. _This was her justice._

There was a man in the center of the room. His eyes widened as they burst inside before narrowing as he sent a blast of fire their way, one Zuko easily deflected.

“Who are you?!” the man demanded, horror-stricken as Zuko returned the attack with a sharp lash of his own flames.

“You don’t remember her?” Zuko snapped. “You will soon, trust me.”

The man - _the murderer_ \- lifted his hand once more, sparks of fire flicking from his palms. With Hama’s laughter ringing in her ears, Katara curled her fingers.

“What’s” - panic was scrawled across the monster’s face - “What’s happening to me?!”

All Katara knew was blood pumping through her veins - no. No, that wasn’t right. All Katara _saw_ was blood pumping through _his_ veins. This monster was under _her_ control. Her command. Her justice.

And she would deliver.

Zuko might have looked back at her. She wasn’t sure. Her eyes never left the murderer’s. But soon he’d once again directed his laser glare onto the commander. “Think back,” he snarled. “Think back to your last raid on the Southern Water Tribe.”

Katara’s eyes narrowed when the villain tried to shake his head. She tightened the muscles in her hand, not allowing him the freedom. This was how her mother had felt, terrified and frozen and unable to escape her doom. Now this monster would know that same paralysis. The same helplessness.

This was her victory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he cried. Against Katara’s will, a tear managed to slip down his face. “Please! I don’t know!”

_Liar._

“Don’t lie!” Zuko growled, moving closer to the murderer. Katara’s fingers curled further into her palm. “You look her in the eye and you tell me you don’t remember what you did!”

Katara snapped her wrist, jerking the monster upright and drawing him towards her. _She_ was the one in control here. She wasn’t powerless, wasn’t helpless like she’d been so long ago -

Katara froze.

No. No, it was impossible.

There was - There was _nothing_ in his eyes. No lightning. No ash-tainted snow. Nothing except…

Fear.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

Fear of _her_.

“It’s not him,” she whispered, arms falling limp to her sides as she stumbled backwards. “He’s not the man.”

“What?!” Shock was the only emotion she could discern in Zuko’s voice. “What do you mean he’s not? He’s the leader of the Southern Raiders. He _has_ to be the guy!”

Katara couldn’t speak. She took another step backwards, hands shaking.

“You must be looking for Yon Rha,” the man - _a victim_ \- hastily explained, his voice pleading. “He retired four years ago. Please, I’ll tell you where to find him if you don’t hurt me!”

Katara’s eyes welled with tears, and as the man spilled every detail, she didn’t hear a single word.

_Innocent. Innocent. Innocent._

Her mind was a broken record stuck on a cursed, never-ending loop, and next thing she knew Appa had landed them on a tiny island not far from the Fire Nation ship. She fell to the ground, landing on her hands and knees as she began to dry-heave. Zuko held her hair back, but nothing came out. That made sense. She hadn’t eaten anything all day.

Katara’s blood thundered in her skull, beating like a drum between her eyes. She wanted nothing more than for the moon to drop below the horizon, to disappear behind a cloud, _anything_ to stop the gruesome power that was burning through her veins and tearing her apart from the inside out.

_Monster. Monster. Monster._

Zuko didn’t ask what was wrong. What had happened. What she’d done. And for that, Katara was grateful.

She allowed him to keep a hand on her shoulder until her breathing had evened out. Until Hama’s cheshire grin wasn’t the only image she saw when she closed her eyes. She then placed her hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze to let him know she could stand on her own again.

After Katara had climbed onto Appa’s saddle of her own accord, Zuko asked her one question.

“Are you ready to face Yon Rha?” Zuko hesitated. “If you need to, we can go back to camp -”

“No.” Katara gripped her mother’s necklace so tightly she feared the ribbon would snap. “I’m not done yet.”

Zuko nodded, and he picked up Appa’s reins. But before he took off, he uttered something that shook Katara to her core. “My mother sacrificed herself for me, too.” He glanced at Katara before returning his attention to the open ocean before them. “I wouldn’t be done, either.”

Katara swallowed the lump in her throat. “Get me to him.”

~*~

Yon Rha lived in a small village at the edge of the Fire Nation. “Even commanders have crappy retirement plans,” Zuko had grumbled when they’d landed, and Katara might have laughed had it not been for the fire still eating away at the remaining oxygen in her lungs.

They’d followed Yon Rha into town, easily discerning his identity from an old woman’s abrasive yelling. Zuko set a trap across the road Yon Rha would have no choice but to travel down in order to return from the market, and from there it was only a matter of waiting. It wasn’t long before Yon Rha fell into their path.

Literally.

Yon Rha tripped over the wire, nearly upending himself as he fell onto his back with a startled cry.

“We weren’t behind the bush,” Zuko said, voice low and tone threatening as they both stepped in front of the fallen man. Zuko then shifted into a fighting stance. “And I wouldn’t try firebending again.”

Yon Rha shielded his face with one hand, arm quaking with fear. “Whoever you are, take my money. Take whatever you want! I’ll cooperate!”

Katara approached him. The rain burned as it dripped down her face, but the world itself had gone silent. Now, there was only her. Her, and a new possibility.

She pulled her mask down. “Do you know who I am?” Her voice was cold. Even. Lethal.

Yon Rha hesitated, but he shook his head. “No. I’m not sure.”

Katara’s fists clenched at her sides. “Oh, you’d better remember like your life depends on it!” Because - Because maybe his life _did_ depend on it. _She_ had the upper hand here! She was the only one who could make the final decision, and this time, she wasn’t going to run away.

Katara leaned in, fixing him with an icy glare. “Why don’t you take a closer look?!”

Yon Rha’s eyes widened in recognition, and a painful satisfaction stabbed through Katara’s stomach. She’d never forgotten him. It was only fair - only _right_ that he hadn’t forgotten her, either. “Yes. Yes, I remember you now. You’re that little Water Tribe girl.” His brow furrowed. “That’s right. Your mother turned herself in. She was the last waterbender of the -”

“She lied to you!” Katara snapped. She clenched her eyes shut, turning away from him. Her mother stood before her. This time, there was no blood dripping down her chin. No, now there were only tears trickling down her cheeks. “She was protecting the last waterbender!”

“What? Who?”

Katara’s eyes flew open, and she spun around to glare at Yon Rha with all the fire still trying to consume her. _She would not be brought down._ “Me!” Katara threw her arms outward, suspending the rain around her before she collected it into a watery shield above the three of them. The silence was deafening.

Time stood still. Because this was Katara’s realm now. Her laws, her mandates, her decisions.

_You deserve to exact justice._

Katara narrowed the water into a stream before directing it at Yon Rha, transforming it into a dozen icy daggers.

_You can do this, sweetie._

Yes. Yes, she _could_ do it. She was powerful enough. She was strong enough. She was present, she was _here_ , and she was no longer the naive, broken child she’d been before. No matter what choice she made, it would be her own.

She paused. No matter what choice…

That was right. She… had a choice.

_Let your anger out._

Katara threw the daggers at Yon Rha, tears slipping down her face as she did so.

_And let it go._

Katara halted the motion of her attack. She exhaled before studying Yon Rha, who was cowering before her, his arms braced for the final blow.

Katara knew she was many things. A master waterbender. A fighter. A healer. The daughter of Kya.

But she wasn’t a killer.

And so Katara chose.

She allowed her arms to fall, the daggers of ice transforming back into liquid water and dropping harmlessly over Yon Rha.

_I wouldn’t be done, either._

And she wasn’t done. Not even close. But she would invest her mercy - her trust, her forgiveness - in someone far more deserving.

“I did a bad thing! I know I did!” Yon Rha begged. “And you deserve revenge! So - why don’t you take _my_ mother?” He laughed weakly. Desperately. “That - That would be fair!”

Katara scoffed, shaking her head. “I always wondered what kind of person could do such a thing. But now that I see you… I think I understand.” She fixed him with a pitying stare. “There’s just nothing inside you. Nothing at all. You’re pathetic and sad and… empty.”

But she wasn’t. Not anymore. Maybe… Maybe she was still broken, after all. Maybe she was tired. Hurt. But her broken pieces still belonged. And they would heal, one day at a time.

“Please.” Yon Rha’s voice cracked, and he began to weep. “Spare me!”

“But as much as I hate you…” Katara bit back a half-sob. “I just can’t do it.”

Her mother’s death was not her fault. Who could blame a little girl for running as fast as she possibly could? Who could blame a little girl for stepping too quickly into shoes impossible to fill? Who could blame a little girl for a crime she should never have held the guilt for?

No one could. And so Katara wouldn’t, either.

Because it wasn’t her fault. It never had been. And now… Now she could breathe easy.

When Katara closed her eyes, all she could see was her mother’s smile.

_I’m proud of you, sweetie._

~*~

The trip back to camp was a quiet one, for the most part. There was an… unspoken understanding between her and Zuko. He respected her decision to walk away from Yon Rha, and really, that was all Katara could ask of him. If anything, the peaceful silence beneath the warm, golden sun was refreshing.

She did broach conversation at one point, though.

“I’m sorry about your girlfriend. Mai.” Katara didn’t turn around when she spoke, wanting to provide him space to respond however he needed without the pressure of her eyes on him. Just as he had provided her when she’d spoken of her mother. “She was very brave to stand up to Azula.”

There was a long pause. “Thank you,” Zuko murmured. “And yes. She was.” Another beat passed. “You… know what that’s like, don’t you? After Ba Sing Se, watching Aang… fall?”

Katara exhaled slowly. “Yeah. I do.”

Zuko chuckled. A little weary, a little tearful, and a little grateful. “It’s… oddly nice having someone who understands.”

This time, Katara did turn around. She gave him a tiny smile. “It is, isn’t it?”

Now she was letting her feet dangle in the water off the edge of a wooden dock. When they’d arrived back at camp, she’d avoided returning to their friends right away. She would let Zuko handle the… well, the general explanation. What she had needed then was a moment alone, so she had taken it.

The sun was setting as Katara threaded her toes through the sea. The moon would not be full. She’d be lying if she said she was totally at ease - she still couldn’t erase the commander’s fear from her mind - but she was… better. The water was tranquil, and her heart was, too.

It was not her fault. She was… free, perhaps. Content. Tired, but content.

Katara absentmindedly stirred the water into spirals with her toes, pausing at the sound of footsteps approaching behind her. Two sets.

“Katara?” Aang. She didn’t need to turn around to see the gentle concern on his face. “Are you okay?”

Katara nodded, taking a slow breath. “I’m doing fine.”

“Zuko told me what you did.” He paused. “Or what you didn’t do, I guess.” Katara could picture his soft smile. “I’m proud of you.”

Katara sighed. She wasn’t going to lie to him. “I wanted to do it.” Rightfully or unjustly - did it matter? “I wanted to take out all my anger at him. But… I couldn’t.” She knew Aang would understand. With the Avatar state… Yes, there was no doubt. He understood. “I don’t know if it’s because I’m too weak to do it, or because I’m strong enough not to.”

Her mother’s face smiled at her from the water. Katara wondered if _why_ really muttered - she’d chosen, after all. _She_ had made the decision. And thanks to her friends, she’d realized that a choice was _possible_. By sparing Yon Rha, she had spared herself. She’d… forgiven herself, even, strange as it sounded.

She couldn’t be more grateful to both of them - _all_ of them - for helping her.

“You did the right thing,” she heard Aang say. Katara’s fingers curled at the thought of her bloodbending. No, she hadn’t done right… Not entirely. But she would tell him later. “Forgiveness is the first step you have to take to begin healing.”

When Katara closed her eyes, no blackened snow fell. No lightning flickered. “But I didn’t forgive him,” she admitted firmly, standing up and turning around to face both of her friends. “I’ll never forgive him.” For better or for worse, that was her decision, too.

She gave Aang a soft smile before shifting her attention to Zuko. “But I _am_ ready to forgive you.”

Katara moved towards the firebender, pausing briefly in front of him before pulling him into a tight embrace. She exhaled a shaky breath as she did so. He smelled of smoke - of fire, of ash - but that was… that was okay. She trusted him. Zuko’s fire was rebirth. It was the gift of second chances, just as Aang had told her. There would be setbacks, she knew. Times she would falter. She suspected it would be a long while before Zuko became her closest confidant, but all the same…

They had an understanding.

Now, there was the new possibility of friendship between them.

Zuko seemed shocked at her sudden embrace, though he did return it, albeit stiffly at first. Katara didn’t want him to be uncomfortable, so she released him after only a few seconds. She proceeded to give Zuko - her friend - a reassuring smile before heading back towards camp with a skip in her step that had been absent for… a long while, now.

When lightning flashed in her mind’s eye, Katara ignored it. When ash-tainted snow clogged her lungs, Katara took a deep breath. Because her broken pieces were healing. They _could_ heal. Healing was a choice, too, and she had made it.

That night, as her friends all sat around the campfire, Katara squeezed into the spot between Aang and Zuko. She rolled her eyes at Aang’s dramatic, tearful protest about being separated from the firebender, slipping her hand into his and lacing their fingers together before jokingly elbowing Zuko with her other arm.

This was her family. _This_ was her new possibility - a new, brighter future.

Katara laughed, the sound bubbling through her chest and filling the air around her.

This was where she belonged.

~*~

**Author's Note:**

> Katara deserves the world, y’all. I hope you enjoyed my introspection into her character, her relationships with her friends, and her journey towards forgiveness. Thank you so much for reading!!


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